You Novice!
by Jadeah
Summary: I've somehow found my way into this fandom, now Malik must put up with my behavour and try to straighten me out as best he can.
1. A letter to Malik

**My costume is pretty much done. So to celebrate, I'm going to make a fic about the misadventures I'd probably have with Malik (because Altair realized how HOPELESS I am when it comes to killing things). As an added bonus, I'm not a Sue! :D We can read and expect things to be relitively realistic! WHOOT! Because if I somehow became a Sue, I'd shoot myself.**

_Malik,_

_I hate to inform you of this, but it seems to have become clear to me that a learner in our ranks is possibly one of the worst students I have seen in years. She is clumsy, easily disbalanced, cannot hold a weapon to save herself, and even trips on her own tongue. Instead of studying I find her drawing on her parchments, a waste of ink. To add to this, I have seen none of the other learners ever try to justify her antics and flaws to me; although I know the feeling of being excluded, I do not want to have to be the one person willing to work with her. She needs to cooperate to make companions, and she never does.  
>So what does this have to do with you, my dear friend? You, of all people, are only person I can think of who could possibly get her into shape. I would if I were not so busy, paperwork and managing the Assassins out on missions and such, but I have heavy doubts I could do no good regardless.<br>I would try to keep her here at the castle, where I could keep an eye on her, but recent events have convinced me that such would probably be one of the more horrific decisions I have made so far. So far she has cut herself with a sword in practice (her thigh is a mangled mess at the moment), accidently pushed Darim down the stairs (thankfully he walked away with only a small bruise, but he might not be so fortunate next time), broke her wrist last week while attempting to perform a leap of faith, nearly murdered me with a bow and arrow, nearly murdered Maria with a throwing knife in practice, and managed to spontaniously set fire to her robes (I do not even know how she managed that one). So why do I not just do away with her? Because I feel everyone should be given another chance at redemption, and if I made her the only exception, I would be very much a hypocrite.  
><em>_With this letter, I send you the information you will need to know. I suggest you read it._

_Her name is Red, and she is fifthteen (I do suppose this age might add to my choice to send her to you, as we made mistakes at that age as well). Her father has become too old to fight and left for Greece, and her mother (from Europe) is living somewhere in Masyaf. Her older brother is becoming a scholar, while her two younger sisters are learning to become semstresses. She has potential to become a great fighter, but she lacks the focus and needs to be steered on the right track. Her fear of sharp objects could pose as an issue, however, there could be a way to get her past it. There might be other things she could do as well other than be an Assassin, work with the other women, become a healer, or even assist a Rafiq or Bureau Leader. The options go on._

_Good luck.  
>Your friend,<br>Altair_


	2. Unwelcoming Welcome

I shifted nervously as I neared the bureau. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe the Grand Master didn't mean to send me to Jerusalem. Maybe everyone is looking for me, and wondering where I am. I shook my head. It was unlikely. Altair had made himself very clear of his intentions when he slapped the map in my hand along with a few other things to get me to the city. It wasn't surprising he would try to get rid of me. I wasn't likeable...

My mom and my brother saw something good in me. They thought I was smart, and could grow to be a beautiful woman. Ha! I don't care what they believe! If I was so smart, why do I make all these mistakes? And I highly doubted my attractiveness, if I was then my usual behavour scared any guy off. Tragic really. But does it look like I give a fuck? Okay, maybe I do, but that's not the point!

Anyways, I stepped around the corner, and caught a glimmer in the soil, so I stepped to the side to investigate. There I caught sight of my straggly light brown hair and hazel eyes; my left one crossed and dipped slightly in towards the bridge of my nose. There were pale freckles on my cheekbones, and my eyes came to focus more on my small forehead. Well, it was moderate. But my brother had teased me about it for so long that I was beginning to believe it was hardly anything.

As for my eyes? I was always like that I guess. It was the main reason my fighting was usually off. If I didn't want a thick fuzz, then I had to focus harder, which even still would produce a double image. I tried to correct it myself, but this proved impossible, so I gave up and tried to learn how to aim correctly with two images and determine which one is the real one. That was when it came to fighting, when I had no time to better determine things; outside the training circle I was usually able to put more thought into my movements and manage to get things.

I sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of my snub nose before continuing down the dirt road. When I reached the bureau, I swallowed hard as anxiety trickled into every nerve within my body. I wanted to run as far away as possible, go back to my mother and be in her arms safe and sound like when I was so much younger. But I shook these fantasies away and held my head a little higher. I was suppose to be an Assassin. This was not the time to be such a whimp.

Okay... here goes nothing...

I climbed up to the roof with the closest ladder, dreading an ache in my splinted arm, and dropped very carefully into the courtyard, before feeling a dizzying rush of pain in my thigh where a wound hadn't healed yet. I gasped soundlessly and clutched it with my left hand, which was uninjuried, trying to ward off the pain.

That's when I heard a voice from the other room. "I know you're there, so stop wasting time and come in."

Crap... It seems that when Altair gave me a new teacher, he gave me the crabbiest man in existance. I would probably be dead by morning. Great... just what I needed.

I slowly scuffled into the room with hesitation, and there I could see the man behind a desk. The first thing I noticed was the absence of a left arm, to which I didn't realize that I was staring until he narrowed his dark eyes. Way to make myself look like an ass on the first day! How do I get any worse? I fear the answer. But I could feel my face heat as I looked away from the area all together and studied the rest. The rest wasn't all that bad, actually. He was darkish skin to go with the typical Arab man look, shaggy black hair that was cropped short, and some thickish eyebrows to match. He was also dressed in the slightly altered robes and ornate black cloak of a Bureau Leader. The cloak, I couldn't help notice, had a sleeve stitched up where he was missing an arm. AGH! Dammit! I'm staring again!

"If you're going to say it, then you might as well now." He stated in a rather unamused tone.

I shook my head. "S-say what?" Damn it all! I sounded so stupid.

"'You're a cripple?' 'How did you loose your arm?'" He answered with an overdramatic, but clearly sarcastic, voice. "Come on, let's hear it now so I don't have to listen to it later."

"I- no!" I stammered, in vain hopes to redeem myself. "I wasn't going to ask! But... I-"

"Out with it," he said.

"Sorry," I finally managed to get out. "It was very rude to stare... I'm sorry." Oh, no wonder... Mom was right, I am far too nice for my line of work.

"Fine." He breathed. "But I suggest you get yourself in order before attempting to talk to me again. I will not hold a conversation with a novice who is unable to properly speak."

I nodded, looking down at my feet. I felt pretty pathetic, mainly because I knew he was right. I probably had the worse pronounciation of words, and couldn't get my "f"s and "th"s right since I could speak. So why the hell don't I just type how I sound? You all will be wondering why you're reading a story about such a (pardon me by saying this) retard.

Another long few moments passed in silence, Malik staring down at map on the desk, and me fidgeting where I stood. Finally he turned his attention back as he realized I had nothing to do but waste time. "Well, why not you make yourself useful and get some things in the market. That should give you a chance to explore, as novices such as yourself seem to do." I nodded and he passed a small pouch of coins. "I'll keep this simple, just go and pick up the new shipment of throwing knives. The Blacksmith knows how much."

So I walked out to the courtyard and pinned the pouch to my belt and looked up at the entrance on the ceiling. An Assassin could easily manage to scale the wall to the open door. How hard could it be? I took two steps back before remembering the splint on my wrist and cursed in my mind. They could easily make it up, without any injuries... I would need to be careful, and lucky.

I rushed to the wall and gripped onto the highest ledge I could reach with my good hand, then I very quickly gripped the next with my uncovered fingers to pull myself to the next. Arm throbbing, I wondered if there was another solution to climbing without aggitating my arm any further. I grinned and swung my legs up the last bit and hung there, over the edge, by my lower legs. Now all I had to do was pull up and... Another revelation, I can't pull my torso up high enough to reach the ledge. SHIT! And I can't just drop! I'll land on my head. Great. Fantastic. I got myself into another situation.

So, hanging there like a ordiment, I started to get a heavy headache as blood rushed to my head. It made me thick of something I hear from another student, hanging upside down too long with give you a nose bleed. Well, I never had one, despite all my mess ups and self injuries, most involve walking into walls and doors, I NEVER have had a bloody nose. My brother just finds it odd, but thinks I'm lying whenever I choose to claim such. But I never have. Not once.

"Are you still there?" I heard Malik ask.

I kept my mouth shut. This would be just the PERFECT way to get myself packed up and shipped back to Masyaf and deemed hopeless. I didn't want to be known as such, so I kept my mouth shut and again tried to pull myself up and out of the entrance. It was difficult, time consuming, and my head felt as though it were led weight but the moment I rolled out, laying flat on my stomach as the blood was returning to the rest of my semi numb body. How long had I been upside down? I don't know, and I don't want to know. Long enough.

So I climbed down the ladder, one handed, and made it down to the streets when I realized something. I didn't know where the hell the Blacksmith even was.

**And I end it there. Thanks for whoever reads this. I really hope you guys like it. I'm working on keeping myself in character and everything. Which isn't so hard.**


	3. Lectures and Discussions

I was gone for a while, roaming the streets, cursing Malik for not giving me directions, and struggling not to stab myself with the sack of throwing knives I was handed. I held it out at arm's length at first, nervous to bring it close to my body. Thankfully the blacksmith was only around the corner from the Bureau, so I didn't have to make a fool of myself for very long.

I dropped the sack down the entrance then dropped in after, my thigh throbbed in complaint as I dragged the sack into the main room.

Malik was again working on a map, and only looked up just for a second. "You took your time, novice," he stated as he refreshed the ink on his quill. "At least you found the blacksmith."

"It would have been easier if I had been told," I responded, but wished I hadn't. It wasn't my place to talk back.

"Leave them by the door, I'll put them away later," Malik told me. It was obvious that he was ignoring my comment; whether it would come back to bite me or not was difficult to tell. So, unwilling to continue to toe the line of disobediance, I pulled the sack of knives to the side and sat down beside my bag to rumage through it. Soon I pulled out a dark covered book, a piece of chalk, my quill and ink set. I placed the ink next to me and rested the book on my lap as I flipped to a clean page and begun to etch out the begins of a drawing with the chalk.

Just an eye, one I spent so much time on getting the details down that I didn't realize how much time even past. But I soon found out when I took note of two boots in front of me. I paused a moment before looking up at Malik, who seemed more or less unamused by my pass time.

"It's late," he said flatly. "Now unless you never sleep, I do suggest you put away the book and retire."

"But I-" I closed my own mouth this time as I realized that arguing with this guy would be fruitless. It wasn't like I was talking back to my last teacher, who usually only wanted an explaination and would let you do what you want. I was learning that Altair intended to give me someone who would be much more strict. Now if "strict" was another meaning for "no freetime" then I'm doomed. I gathered my quill, chalk, and ink and dropped them into my bag. I was holding onto my book, which I kept partly open with my thumb so the ink wouldn't smear. "Yes. I'll go. Goodnight."

Before I could even leave his line of sight, he found another way to prolong my discomfort and discreetly make a fool of me. "You know that you can't be sleeping in the courtyard."

"I... um..." I sighed heavily. "Then where do I sleep?"

"Come with me." Upon that, I followed him as he walked towards the far back and openned a door to a short hallway. Now this was something I never really heard about, since the assassins who come back from missions, never seem to go anywhere but the main room and the courtyard. There were two doors in this small of which Malik tapped with the toe of his boot. "It's actually just where we are suppose to keep assassins if they are badly injuried on a mission, but there's an extra space for healers. Consider that your space, but I'd better not find it cluttered and disorganized."

I nodded my thanks. "And the other door?"

"My room. What of it?" He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which I guess it kind of was. He went to open his own door before adding, "Be up by sunrise."

"Okay," I responded before walking into the other room. There were two mats. But I assumed the one on a table was meant for the wounded, to I dropped my bag down near the other in the corner. The space wasn't all that bad; a few worn pillows on top a straw woven mat. It could have been a lot worse and been just the cold floor. With that little bit of optimisium, I placed my book beside my mat and laid down to attempt to get some sleep.

_Blood. The world bathed in crimson and spinning. The loud tha-thump of a heart pounding. The heavy, painful gasps of breath._

_"Malik!"_

_"Come on! Hurry!"_

_"It's going to be okay, kid. Everything's going to be just fine."_

_The metal slide of a sword and then a scream._

_"Red. Come on, Red."_

"Get up." Malik was standing above me. "It's sunrise."

I groaned in complaint, just noticing that my hair was matted to my neck and forehead with sticky sweat, and my breathing had not slowed until the adreniline from the nightmare seeped away.

"Bad dream?" He asked, exaimining my expression of shock and fear ebbing away.

"Uh, yeah..." You know how some people say they have a hard time remembering their dreams? I never did. They were vivid as life to the extent where I sometimes felt pain. They stuck to my brain like troublesome cobwebs.

I was then startled back to full alertness when a white fabric object was thrown and hit me in the face. "Get dressed, I'll be in the other room." I had pulled the robe off my head in time to see him close the door behind him. Now for a moment, I almost wondered if Altair had any other people who he would have shipped me to. Doesn't matter I guess.

The robes he had given me weren't all that special. They were practically like his, but I was without the cloak to wear over it. The under piece was long and almost seemed like it it had a built in apron or something. While the over piece was basically like a shirt with long tails, two in fornt and two in back, and a flap of fabric over each tail. Almost like the regular Assassin robes in everything but simple details. There were some stitches to close the front with a topped X shape to it, normal robes didn't have the under skirt, and I couldn't quite figure out how exactly I was suppose to tie the shorter red sash (as I was used to the red length in the back as well as the front; it being shorter, I could only allow for a strip in the front). The only slightest bit of difference I could guess at was how loosely they hung on me in comparison.

So I stood there, looking myself over and making slight comparisons to my other set of novice robes. I had replaced the bandages over my thigh, which was steadily healing, and double checked my wrist before walking out into the main room where Malik was back to work with his maps. He didn't seem to notice that I walked in.

"You took your time," he noted without looking up at me. Then he replaced the quill in his ink jar and looked over to me. Now due to the awkward introduction where I couldn't seem to look anywhere but his amputation, I averted my gaze to the desk he was standing behind. "Do you know why you're here in Jerusalem?"

"Because I only get in the way," I answered with bitterness. "So the Grand Master wanted me somewhere where I couldn't to damage."

"That," he said, "is only partly true. You are a klutz and rather unskilled now, and though it has gotten you into trouble, there is more to it than that. You also lack self discipline, and this makes it difficult for you to train and improve. I have heard that your last teacher was very open and easy on you with training, and so you were never challanged or pushed to test your limits or even encouraged to improve. It is not your fault completely with this one, as it is the teacher who must guide a student. The Grand Master only wants to ensure that you are put somewhere where your potential is highest."

Just hearing this both disproved and sobered me and my views. My teacher said that men were made to battle, but women were not. So he never tried to press me, and acted as though he didn't understand how my mind worked. As if I were not human. Sure I thought nothing of it then, hell I loved the freedom, but now that I looked back at the fault in it, I worried. How could I drag myself from it? Or would I be able to at all?

"I think that the best way to teach you is to learn what you can do, and work on it," Malik continued. "Not everyone is meant to kill, after all."

"And how do you propose we find this out?" I asked.

His answer was simple yet tricky. "I want you to tell me. What is it you're most comfortable doing when it comes to training?"

In training, so that discluded drawing. Damn... "I don't know."

"You don't." Malik repeated. "I've seen the reports, obviously fighting and climbing are not your strong suits. So obviously the typical Assassin is out of question unless you wish to throw in the extra effort. How about spotting? Is keeping a look out so hard?"

Yes. I looked down and nodded. "I... should probably tell you something..."

"And what would that be?" He asked.

"I don't really see very well." I told him hesitantly. "I never could."

"Oh so the slight cross in your eyes are normal?" He said. "Good to know; I thought you were just looking at me funny the entire time."

My cheeks burned for a moment. "So... no. I'm not a good spotter."

"And that leaves scout out of the question." He tapped his chin a moment. "I don't know then. Is there anything you can do?"

"I can draw fairly decent," I shrugged. "But what good is that?"

"None unless you want to be like me and make maps for the rest of your life." He answered with the first hint of a grin I had seen since I arrived. "Anything else?"

I thought for a moment. "I'm alright when it comes to figuring out how something works. And my mom taught me a little about healing."

Malik thought for a moment before replying. "I'll think about what you told me and see if I can't think of something. For now, why not you check the pidgeon coop outside."

I nodded and walked out into the courtyard. But I hesitated when I reached the fountain and ceiling door. How would I climb up this time? I sucked in a breath and got straight to climbing, biting back curses as my arm throbbed with pain and my thigh strained in protest. A torturous minute later, I had managed to climb out. So I walked over to the coop and checked for any sort of message.

Well there was one. I grabbed the pidgeon and untied the message from it's leg. With the small slip of paper in hand, I carefully dropped back inside and handed the note to Malik.


	4. Training Difficulties

Malik read the message before sighing and dropping it down on the desk. "It seems we'll have company soon."

So Altair sent a man here for a contract? Great! I could learn better that way! And now, fighting the strong urdge to jump on the balls of my heels with excitement, I asked, "How long until he gets here?"

"Calm down, novice. It's only another assassin." He didn't seem as stern as his words would come to sound. Actually, I could see some form of amusement he was hiding fairly well. "And considering the speed of pidgeons, he could very well arrive tomorrow."

I almost didn't want to wait. I wanted to know who this guy was, and if he turned out to be Ahmet (one person who started training about the same time I had) I would definately tackle him when he gets in. But then again, it was mainly my over excitement that got me into trouble. I break things, hurt people accidently, and hurt myself. I can't help it though! There's just to much to do and so little time!

"So what can I do now?" I wondered aloud, honestly it was probably better to keep me busy. That is if I decided to go ahead and do it.

Clearly more or less willing to find some way to exhaust me, Malik actually thought about it. "Why not we see how awful your climbing skills really are. Come on."

So I followed him out into the courtyard when I remembered the busted wrist and my stabbed thigh. How on earth could I possibly even attempt getting out? The first time was bad as it was. And second? Luck. Pure luck.

Malik gestured to the wall under the entrance, waiting. "Go on."

Oh well, the point arguing? I see none. I ran full force at the wall, and rushed up my kick to push me up. I wanted to get it done, and I wanted it to be done smoothly so I wouldn't look like a fool. But instead of grabbing on like I had planned, my face hit the wall with my momentum. I yelped and fell back into the fountain holding my nose.

I was pretty sure I heard a slap, my ears were ringing, before Malik came over with his hand over his face before letting it fall off. "I should wonder how you managed to exit this bureau the last two times. How badly did you hurt yourself?"

I moved my hand away and found myself staring at blood in my palm, in fact I even tasted it thick in my mouth. "Um..."

Upon seeing my hand from over my shoulder, he went straight in front of me and cupped my chin to get a better look at my damage done. He sighed heavily. "You certainly bit your lip that time." He carefully pulled my jaw down so he could check my mouth. "And your cheek. Does this happen to you a lot?"

I nodded slowly, and closed my mouth as he pulled his hand away.

He breathed slowly in thought before adding with a little bit of curiousity, "I wonder how you didn't break your nose. I could have sworn you hit that first."

"I did," I confirmed. "I'm just immune to bloody noses."

He didn't seem convinced. "No one's immune. You had to of had one once."

"Nope." I said shaking my head. "Never."

Malik waved my off and helped me up with a strong pull. I kept my lip sucked into my mouth often to let my saliva coat it. I don't know, but it seems to help it heal. And it doesn't hurt as much. Anyways, Malik had me do it again. Now this time I learned from my mistake and didn't run full force. But without enough momentum, I slid right back down without the height to grab that first ledge and bound to the next. But, unwilling to just stop there, I jumped and swung my good arm out to latch that third ledge in my grip. I missed by mere centimeters and fell backwards.

"Come, on," Malik said dryly. "Get up and try it again, do what you did the first time you left."

I stared wide eyed at him before shaking the nervousness away and nodding. Is tood up again and attempted to repeat my first idea. And once again, I ran into the same issue, I hung upside down unable to lift my torso high enough to heave myself outside. So I felt more than a burn of humiliation as Malik observed with an unreadable face.

"Hm, I don't know where you got this upside-down notion from, but can't you get up?" He asked as his eyebrow arched.

I shook my head, already feeling dizzy. My voice sounded strained with all the pressure being put on my lungs and vocal cords. "No... I can't..."

"Well can you drop?" He wondered.

Alright, now I'm beginning to wonder if he lost it! I can't reach the damn ledge! What gave him the idea that I could land safely on the floor without cracking my skull wide open on the ground. "I can't..! I'll fall on my head..!"

Malik cracked a grin as he paced towards me. "Why aren't you just climbing straight up?"

I waved my heavy, splinted arm around in front of his face. "This..! It hurts too much and... and I'll only make it worse!" I don't know if it's normal to feel this nausiated... "uuuugh..."

"Red, calm down," Malik said, though he sounded a tad bit like he was treating me like a child who just ran up to him with a papercut. "I'll get you down, but you have to listen and do what I'm telling you to do."

I couldn't nod, so I grumbled, "Yeah... alright..."

I then felt his hand press to my back and push me upwards. "Okay, grab the ledge. If that arm of yours hurts too much then don't use it." I did as asked, desperate to get out of this position, and took hold of the ledge with my good hand. "Good, now you need to flip back to land on your feet. I'll have to move my hand, but you need to push yourself back and kick your feet forward. And keep hold of the ledge. Got it?"

I hummed in responce, feeling a drop of sweat snake up from my brow up to my hairline. I then noticed Malik's hand retreat from my back and press to my lower ribs. He gave me a nod and I swung back as he stepped to the side out of the way of my feet. I felt a sharp pain in my arm as I kept holding onto the ledge and worried if my arm would pop out of it's socket; I then felt my toes hit the floor and let go of the ledge much to my arm's relief. But without the leverage it gave me, I stumbled backwards, and would have falling flat on my ass if Malik hadn't quickly reached out and grabbed the front of my robes.

"That's why you need to hold onto the ledge." Malik stated.

I got my footing and pushed his hand away. "My arm would have been dislocated if I did."

"Are all women this feeble?" He questioned as he walked towards the door, but I was fuming.

"No! Not all women! I'm just a klutz!" I shouted.

Though Malik seemed like the kind of man who would blow back up in your face for yelling at him, he remained calmer than what surely must have been normal. Even still, I could tell he wasn't pleased with my disrespectful tone towards him, a superior in rank and skills. "Learn to hold your tongue, or it might get you into trouble."

I tried to calm myself, breathing heavily and such as Malik walked inside. But I followed him in. "How could what you're telling me work if I only have one arm and it hurts to do that?"

He sighed heavily and stared at some small necklace, woven out of threads, on his desk. "It never stopped me."

Those words in themselves seemed to carry a harder blow than any of the things he said before. Sure he hadn't called me weak, but it made me feel guilty. I was complaining about my own arm (splinted and in pain, but it would heal at least), while Malik's was gone all together. I thought about it for a second before looking down at my feet. "Yes, I... I'm sorry..."

"Why not you go calm down and we can pick this back up later," he said in the usual monotone. He was still staring at the necklace. "And don't break anything, novice."

So I walked into the healer's room and sat down on my mat staring at my hands. I found myself breathing hard my already blurred sight swaying as I looked back on my words. The more I thought about it, the more I realized what a brat I sounded like back there. I wasn't a drama queen, not usually, that was always my youngest sister. And I wondered, would my other sister be more cut out of this line of work? She was tough, athletic, smart, and defiant. She could hold her own in a fight, much better than I could. And that much was obvious...

Then I chuckled lowly, I could just see her beating the life out of some attacker. Whenever our mother used to tell us stories about a monster that would come and eat us if we were bad, she always said that she would punch it. Even when she was a small child it was the same. _"I'm gonna punch that beast!"_

I didn't realize that I was so caught up in my memories that I had started to cry a little. I wiped the tears off my cheek and sighed heavily. "I'll show Malik that I'm not a brat..."


	5. Back to square 1

After the short break (intermission), I came back out into the main room where Malik was lightly etching a boarder around a map. I hadn't realized until then but they weren't as flat and plain as I first thought, there was small details carefully drawn in, and the border itself looked more like rope now that I took the time to examine it.

"You calmed down?" Malik asked without even looking up, and I was standing well to the corner of his line of sight if in it at all. When I didn't respond, he looked up and replaced his quill. "I was considering the training on what I've observed earlier. Now because of your lacking in climbing ablilities, which is basic no matter what position you choose to work in, I think it's best we run through less dangerous and possibly more useful things now before we get to actual climbing. Do you remember the lessons on landing properly?"

I nodded. "I remember watching a lot of other people doing it. And I drew a little bit, but I didn't try."

He sighed and looked back dwon at the map for a moment. "Very well, so we'll start from there." Somehow I got the feeling he was hoping I would have had more skills than I gave away. Unfortunately that's not the case. I followed him out into the courtyard and he turned towards me. "How about you show me what you remember. What are the two landings one can make, and when's the best to do them?"

I thought for a moment to the pictures in my journal. A person landing on his feet, and another rolling. "You could land on your feet, or you can somersult. The former though is only good if you're not moving fast or forward. And the rolling's when you fall from a greater height or forward to slow yourself down."

"Very good." Malik said, maybe he was a little pleased to know that I remembered that much. I don't know though. "But there's a way to do it so you minimize injury, like that wrist of yours," he continued, gesturing to my splint. "If you land standing, you must do so on the balls of your feet and your back straight, this way it takes a lot of the stress away from the knees. As for rolling, you do so by rolling from one shoulder to the opposite hip to minimize contact with your spine."

I nodded. "Alright."

"Let's see your jump first." He said, and watched as I crouched before jumping and landing, feeling the pain up in my thigh. He shook his head. "Like I said, the idea is to land on the balls of your feet and give your back a positive curve." He then pulled my shoulder back a tad to correct my posture. "Do you always slouch?"

"Yeah..." I answered. Honestly it was more the loner thing going on there. I didn't feel comfortable around others so I just tried to slouch a little and slip through.

"Although this would work if you were trying to blend with a crowd, if you're trying to land then having this hunch will more likely make you easily disbalance upon landing. Try it again, and I'll be correcting you on this posture issue from now on." He told me.

Great, just another thing to watch... My mouth, my spinal column... what next? Do I need to watch the cross in my eye too? I stopped myself from verbally complaining before I again tried to jump.

"Again, you're slouching." Malik noted. "But at least you're not hitting the ground toe first." Was I? I didn't notice.

I straightened my back and jumped again, the pain in my thigh was a little less troubling this time than before, so I thought I was doing something right.

"Alright, you're getting better at least. Again."

Another jump.

Malik nodded. "I think you have the idea, but you'll still need to work on it so that you don't break an ankle any time soon. Now for the roll. Like I said, the idea is to go from your shoulder to the opposite hip." He then got to a crouch. "Now we won't start by jumping off a wall or anything like that, just crouch with your lead arm in front of you and the adjacent foot ahead as well." He had his one arm in front of him and turn his foot a little, and did a double take on my own position. Obviously I was doing something wrong because he stood straight again and started to fix my pose. "You need to bend this arm in a little more and this is one of those instances where you want to slouch and give your back a curve."

"But you said that I needed to work on my posture," I pointed out.

"Not with rolling, that's completely different and you'll be doing this quite often." He stated. "Also, you'll want to tuck in your head so that you don't hit it on the ground. The last thing I need is to deal with you with a concussion."

I nodded and then rolled forward, but felt a sharp pain to my hip.

"That was good, now you need to roll to the opposite hip." Malik noted.

So I tried again, trying to move fast so I could get onto the other things. Once again I felt that harsh bump of the stone floor to my hip.

"Red, did you hear me at all?" Malik questioned. "You move from one shoulder to the other hip."

"I heard you." I told him.

"Maybe the issue is you're taking this too fast." He guessed. "Try breaking down the movements."

"It would be easier if I knew how I should be moving," I said.

"Don't get wise with me, just try it again." He responded with an equal edge.

So I was drilled through somersults for the next hour and a half until Malik decided he had seen enough of my inablility to roll properly and that it was a good time to take a break. But before he could walk inside, I stopped him. "Malik, I'm just wondering, what did you mean when you said that having one hand never stopped you?"

He sighed. "I should assume that you won't leave me alone until I answer, correct."

"Maaaaybe," I replied rocking from my toes back to my heels.

He shook his head and looked to the fountain and the entrance. Then in a shift motion, he ran forward and bounded up the wall, his foot only hitting the wall once and his hand taking hold of the ledge at the top. Then he pulled him up and seated himself on the edge and stared down at me as I looked up at him with shock written all over my face. How could he, when he probably weighed more than me, manage to propel himself up like that? My best guess was some insane leg muscle and arm strength. Malik then slipped off and landed with a light footed thump on the ground before walking back inside.

Okay, let's look over the rules of the bureau so far:  
>1. DON'T stare at Malik's amputation.<br>2. DON'T be a smartass about anything, even when you're right.  
>3. ALWAYS keep your back straight unless you're doing a somersult.<br>4. DON'T under estimate Malik's abilities despite missing a limb.  
>5. NO WHINING.<p>

Sounds easy enough.


	6. Learning the World

_Painful screams. The blood... it was everywhere._

_"Shh... they'll hear us!"_

_A muffled moan and the loud tha-thump of a heart beating fast._

_"Hold on. You'll be alright."_

_"It'll be alright, Red."_

I jumped up to a sit, breathing heavily as I tried to regulate my heart beat and my nerve back to a manageble level. But I couldn't manage to remain calm. I couldn't go back to sleep. So I got up and walked towards the room, about to continue trying to climb out of the bureau when I glanced back at my journal and ink set sitting beside the mat. I could just draw until morning. I shook my head and left the room, and stepping out into the pale moonlit courtyard.

I sized up the wall again, and thought of how Malik managed to scale it. All it took for him was a strong kick up agaisnt the wall and timing his grab to the height of it. It seemed easy enough. So I took a few steps back, until I was pressed to the opposite wall, and bolted forward. My foot struck the wall and I launched upwards and went to reach the top, but my fingers' reach fell short of a few inches. I landed back with a thump and glared at the stone before walking back and trying again and again. But everytime I tried, I'd fall just a little bit short.

Taking a heavy breath, I realized that I could just walk back inside and see if I couldn't muzzle up an extra hour of sleep. One more shot. I'll give this thing one more shot.

I looked up to the rim of the entrance, I needed to launch myself high enough to grab it. And so I ran at the wall full speed, and kicked up from the wall, I knew I would fall short again so I kicked against it again to push myself up just a little higher. It was enough, I managed to take hold of the edge in my good hand. Now to pull myself up... I strained and pulled, trying to heave my own body weight upwards with one arm. But I resorted to kicking and scrapping at the wall with my feet to push up until I could rest the rest of my other arm on the edge and pull myself out. I breathed heavily and stared down the entrance, unable to believe I actually did that.

"You did well."

I blinked and strained my eyes in the gloom to see the one armed figure of Malik towards the doorway, he had been watching me this entire time? And I hadn't noticed? I felt my face burn at the fact that he must have had to have seen all the mess ups it took to get me up here. He stepped closer until I could better see his tired expression. Alright, so he usually looks tired anyways, but it seemed in the light of the silver cresant moon, his face retained less youth and carried a sort of haunted look to it.

"Now, can you get back down? Or must I help you with that?" He asked.

I shook my head and slid down to land on the balls of my feet, which I felt the shockwave up into my pained thigh.

"You're still slouching." He noted, and I straightened myself.

"And now I'm not," I replied.

"Did you even know I was watching?" He wondered.

"No." I answered. I wanted to walk back inside, but it would be disrespectful to just leave him without asking. I almost wonder now where I'm getting some of these mannor things from; before they were nonexistant, but now it seemed like if I didn't use them then I would have to undergo a long lecture on their importance. "How long were you watching?"

"Twenty minutes or so," he told me. "And it's good to see that you took some of my advice."

I smiled. "There might be hope for me after all."

"Maybe," Malik seemed a little surprised. "If you actually worked to improve like you did here, then there most certainly is. But it'd the effort you have to be willing to put in in order to achieve it."

I nodded. "I know..."

He patted my shoulder and walked past me towards the doorway. "The assassin will be here soon, try and get some rest until then. It might be another option for you."

So I followed him inside and returned to my room. I laid there in quiet darkness for what seemed to strike me as an hour; I couldn't go back to sleep. Before the images could escape my mind, I lit the candle by my mat and picked up my journal. Right away I was sketching out shapes in chalk and soon inking over to draw figures of the techneque I used to climb out of the bureau. Then I modified the images for the crouch and roll to give myself a better idea of the dynamics. Soon I had full diagrams drawn, arrows and notations written out until I was satified with my work. I grinned to myself and sighed. It had all taken me a total of two hours. Two hours that would have probably been wasted with me trying to sleep otherwise.

I left my journal open to allow the ink to draw as I heard a knock on the door. Right away I fixed myself up, making sure I looked presentable before tugging on my boots and walking to the door. Malik gave me a once over and we walked out into the main room. So while he was again working on his maps, I sat on the edge of the long desk and peered at his progress.

"It's not that interesting, you know." He said without looking at me.

I blinked and continued to follow his hand. "I think it is. You didn't tell me at all about the streets or anything I don't know my way around."

He sighed. "Very well," his hand traced over the parchment an inch over it so the ink wouldn't smudge to show a large area with a giant octagon towards the lower spot of the area he was indicating. "This all here is the richer of the three districts in this city. There are also two others-" he pointed out an area below the rich district, "-here, the poor district-" then to another to the left of the two, "-and here, the middle district. You can obviously tell the differences between these three places."

"Obviously a class shift," I answered. "The wealthy are in the rich district while the lower class live in the poor districts. Anyone who isn't either one just kind of lives in this other district."

"That's basically it," Malik stated. "So long as a wealthy man is better off than most others, he won't care what happens to the lower classes."

"So where are we?" I asked.

"That's your guess." He said. "When you left, what did you more often see?"

"I saw upper class citizens," I answered, remembering the nice clothing they walked about in.

Malik nodded. "That's because the bureau resides in the corner of the rich district." He pointed out a rectangle towards the corner of the rich district, and I nodded. Then he moved his hand to the middle district towards a wider area. "Now over here is the market, I'll tell you this one now because there might be things I'll have you run over to get supplies."

A knock on the wall averted our attention to the door. The assassin had arrived.


	7. Friend on a Mission

I smiled widely and jumped off the desk to run over to the assasin, wrapping my slender arms around his lean frame. "Akhdan!"

He chuckled a little and patted my back as he tried to pull out of the hug. "Red, you've been holding out alright." He then looked over to Malik and asked, "Has she been much trouble?"

I looked over as Malik answered, "She's... interesting. But we're both still here, are we not?"

"True," Akhdan grinned, "I thought I would walk in to find a couple of corpes. Or at least her's."

I let go and punched him lightly on the arm. "Hey! I'm not that weak!"

"No," he said, rubbing where my knuckles struck. "But you are clumsy."

Now to get out of the way, I took one of the pillows near the chess board and sat down to watch the exchange. It was about some former assassin who left after Altair became Grand Master. He's been leaking information to Templars about the inner workings of the order and where bureaus were hidden, so it became a priority to silence him. From what Akhdan gathered, he was also heavily guarded and it would be a difficult matter slipping into where he was holing himself up.

But who better than Akhdan? He was strong, fast, and knew more methods of killing than I could care to count. He looked very much like any of the other assassins except for his light amber eyes. I suppose there were plenty others who didn't have simply "black" eyes, like me and my siblings for example (my brother and I have hazel, and one sister has blue), but it seemed most of the ones I meet have that typical Arab look to them. Anyways, he was older than me by four years, but ever since I started my training, he was the only one to stick by me. And somethings I do owe him for.

"Good luck!" I called as he was walking out.

He smiled at me and told me, "Maybe when I get back you can show me what you've learned."

For the next two hours, I sat with Malik, asking about the mission. He even showed me on the map where Akhdan was headed. So I smiled and nodded, soon to ask if he had an escape planned out. Malik could only shake his head. "That is something an assassin must wait to figure out. Unless enough information has been gathered, which in this case there wasn't, you need to learn the lay out as you proceed."

I looked down. "So why doesn't he wait some more to get more imformation?"

"Because this one moves around and he's been still long enough for us to find him," Malik explained. "We can't risk waiting for too long or else he'll get up and walk away."

It did make sense, but my worries didn't end. And that was when the church bell begun to ring. Malik looked towards the doorway a moment before sighing.

"Akhdan reached his target." He then glanced down at his map, "Now all we have to do is wait for him to get back over here."

For a moment, I listened to the church bell and asked, "What happens if the bell stops ringing?"

"Then they have him, or it's been a few days and they can't find him," Malik answered. "But it shouldn't take him a few days, he'll be here soon."

After a long moment of silence, I felt a flash of pain lance through my chest. And as I tried to breath, I realized something: the bell had stopped ringing.

"No..." I whispered before getting up and rushing out into the courtyard. No Akhdan. As Malik shouted at me to get back inside, I climbed out on trembling limbs and raced towards where his target was. I could only find him if I looked right? Even if it meant disobeying oders to do otherwise. But where could he have gone? A numerous amount of places I assumed.

I stumbled around for what seemed hours, flashes of pain and illusions of blood brought me to waver. But when I actually did step in real blood, I felt sickness take hold of me. This was real. I couldn't... I shook myself. No I had to find my friend. So I followed the blood trail down to what I feared to find. Akhdan. Bloody, beaten, and on the verge of death.

"Akhdan!" I screamed, tears welling up in my eyes as I dropped down to my knees by his side and wrapped my arms around his shivering body. He looked up at me with his amber eyes pale as death was seeping in. "Akhdan, come on. You'll be alright! Say something!"

He shuddered, "Red...? Wha... what are you... doing here...?" He coughed as more blood seeped out of his mouth.

"I'm going to get out of here." I told him. "You'll be okay."

"N-no..." he rasped. "It's... too late..." His hand reached into his pocket while the other took hold of my arm. When he drew out a knife, I froze and looked at him with dismay. "Be at ease..." He soothed as he dragged the tip through my skin, and cut out a introcate design. I knew it was the assassin symbol, but he did it differently. His was covered with vines and the center held a cresant moon. I knew that should have been it, but he continued to write something in my skin with the tip of his knife. "I cannot... give you anything else... When it is healed... I want you... to brand the pattern... so you remember me..."

"Akhdan, please... don't talk like that, you'll be okay." I sobbed. "You need to live..."

He smiled, blood shimmering on his lips. "Do you remember... what you used to say... when I came back from missions... and you were wrapping up the wounds...?"

I shivered and felt the tears about to come. "I am not strong enough... to handle these injuries..."

He nodded. "And I would... always tell you..."

"True strength... is the will to keep fighting..." We both said.

From behind, I heard a slash and turned to see guards approaching. One pointed to us and two more came forward with hands on the hilts of their shealthed weapons. But they hardly even entered the alleyway when they found throwing knives imbedded in their chests. They collapsed in a heap while the other guards looked at one another in fear. And from the rooftop, I could see Malik getting ready to throw some more knives. He let them fly, and with deadly accuracy, they peirced the last three guards in the backs.

"Malik!" I said with relief. But I realized more guards were coming from behind me now.

"Come on! hurry!" Malik shouted.

Akhdan wheezed and held me a little tighter before letting me go. "It's going to be okay, kid... Everything's going to be just fine..."

I felt frozen as I remembered the dream, but I quickly shook it off when I felt a seering pain in my shoulder. I ran straight for Malik as I casted one last look of dispair at Akhdan, silently telling him how sorry I was. But he smiled at me, even when I heard the metal slide of a guard's sword being withdrawn. And I couldn't look away as the tip was driven into his neck, and my long time friend choked and gagged on his own blood until he died.

For a moment, my world felt frozen, I couldn't move... But Malik took my arm and practically dragged me. "Red. Come on, Red."

"Get those other two!" One guard shouted.

We ran quickly, well more like Malik was running and I was stumbling behind him in a daze of grief and mourning. I didn't fully snap out of it until another sharp pain struck my back, and another in my leg. I fell foward and into the dirt, but Malik didn't just leave me there. He picked me up and dragged me with my arm over his shoulder. I could only barely keep my feet moving to help as all the nightmares were coming back with clarify. Vivid as ever. This was the nightmare!

We soon rounded the corner to run into another Assassin. Malik had said something and I found myself being carried by the other. I could only watch the world move by. And soon it stopped as a door slammed shut behind us, and I was laid down on my stomach.

Right away I felt something ripped from my skin, and I screamed with agony as I watched the blood seep all around me. My vision was blurring more so, crossing in and out as I tried to force back to the pain. But again, something was pulled out of my shoulder, and I screamed.

"Shh...! They'll hear us!" The other Assassin whispered as he put his hand over my mouth for me to scream into. But I could only moan in pain. My heart slamming against my chest. This was just like my nightmare... As if this guy knew what I was thinking, he soothed as his hand came to the last of the knives, imbedded in my leg. "Hold on. You'll be alright."

"It'll be alright, Red." Malik repeated as he kneeled down in front of me and tried to get me to look at him. But I was too beyond myself to even care... and soon I fell into darkness...


	8. Aftermathe

Malik sighed as Red's eyes shut. "Sirja, I hope you know what you're doing." He sighed.

Sirja was one of the Assassins who worked locally in Jerusalem, and one of his men who helped Altair defeat Al Mualim. Though his accuracy with a throwing knife varied greatly, there were other things. He was experienced in healing, and his hand to hand combat was truly unwavering. And now here he was, looking at all of the wounds on Red, the throwing knives, her arm, and even the two older ones from before. His black eyes studied them with intent before he sighed heavily.

"How bad is it?" Malik asked. In all honesty, he couldn't help but feel bad about the child's condition, it was his responcibility to watch out for her. And he failed to keep her inside the bureau when it mattered. If she died, not only would he hold remorse, but he beinging to worry about what Altair would have to say about it. Or worse: Abbas.

The other shook his head and reached in his bag for some bandages to press into the wounds. "Has she been training on parkour before this?"

"Yes, a little. I didn't show her very far past how to land properly." Malik answered.

Sirja looked down at her leg. "And did she ever seemed... pained whenever she did?"

It took a moment to answer, because Malik had to try and reexamine what he saw. Though she was decent when it came to keeping a straight face, there was always a pained look in the eyes. "Yes. She has. Why?"

He breathed heavily. "All this time she's been feeling her muscles tearing, Malik. Should she keep this up, I fear that it might be completely useless. And this new wound to it complicates things further. She probably won't be climbing anymore. Don't let her, understand?"

With a nod, Malik glanced back down at Red. Had he known, this could have been better handled. But even though Altair mentioned the injury, he had not taken it to heart and allowed for her to get worse and worse. "Yes... I understand."

By now Sirja had pads of bandages pressed down to the wounds on her shoulders, and the one on her leg tied up. "As for these two wounds on her shoulders, one has hit a bad spot, she's going to loose a lot of blood if I can't stitch it closed. And those cuts on her arm... that will also complicate things. If they are deep enough, then I might not be able to save the hand. She could be a cripple." With a chuckle he looked up at him. "Almost like you, Malik."

For a moment, he balled his hand into a fist, but he loosened it until he was sure he was calm enough to speak. "We should return to the bureau as soon as possible."

"Right." Sirja agreed, and picked Red back up in his arms.

She looked so small now to him, before all he saw was arrogent determination and loyalty, but now all he saw was pain and unease. Now she was fragile as a thin sheet of glass; drop her and she breaks. He couldn't let that happen now, he owed her that much.

The walk back, more like a quick jog, was silent and calculating. They checked every path for guards as they still heard the bells ringing in their ears. They were being hunted, and now the mice had to run back to their hole. In little time they reached the bureau and dropped in.

Right away they rushed to the healer's room, where they laid Red down on the table while Sirja got straight to work. But despite his desire to leave the room, Malik stayed and watched. His eyes followed a needle as it slowly closed the wounds. It was almost like watching the tip of his quill, carefully watching for mistakes. Soon her shoulders were stitched shut and he reexamined the arm.

"I... I know this variation... Akhdan..." He breathed. "Did he...?"

"I'm afraid so..." Malik nodded. "Red found him moments before the guards finished him off. I didn't hear what he told her, but I did see him cut this mark out on her arm." For a moment he stared at the arm. "From what she told me, they were close friends. And with all the blood I found on her hands, I don't know what this could do to her mind later."

Sirja didn't look up from his work. "Then keep an eye on her, and should she start to show signs of mental trama, just call me back so I can figure out someone who can work with her."

Again he looked over her as Sirja turned her on her back with the wounds closed there. She was so deathly pale, skin as dull as clouds. Dark circles, usually hard to notice, were dark as ever with the clear appearence of veins in the eyelids. And even as she was unconscious, he could see the flashes of pain strike her features when Sirja ran his needle through her flesh.

It came to the point where Malik could hardly stand it... he found himself flashing briefly back to his amputation. All that pain, and he hadn't even had the mercy of being asleep when it happened, he practically lost his voice from all the screaming he had done and the sight of his blood and the severed arm... it was enough to give him more nightmares than what the haunting image of his dead brother had already left him with. It almost seemed like this was something leading up to the exact same thing. But he wouldn't let that happen.

Sirja finished his work and secured the bandages before walking towards the door. "Do you want to stay with her for a while? It's probably better to let her rest."

"Maybe you should stay here while she's healing," Malik told him. "I'll move her possessions and give oyu a spot to sleep for the time being."

"Do you think she'll mind?" He asked.

Malik shook his head. "I'm sure she'll understand."

So he walked over to the area that had been claimed as Red's, and carefully moved her journal and ink to a drawer in the table where they could be out of the way. And then the bag, he picked it up, but obviously the wrong way and a few of it's contents fell to the floor. Sighing, he picked them back up. A quill, a glove, another journal. His hand stopped at a small doll, it's mouth made from black stitches and buttons for eyes. He sighed and picked it up, and placed it beside her. Malik figured she could use the comfort of something like that. And as for her bag, he put it under the table.

When those were put away, he casted another glance down to Red before walking out of the room.

* * *

><p><em>"Restrain him!"<em>

_"No! No! Please, let me go! I don't want to loose it!"_

_"Malik! Calm yourself! Someone help me hold his shoulders down!"_

_"Ngghhh!"_

_"Hush. It'll be over soon."_

* * *

><p>Weakness... I couldn't open my eyes, I couldn't move. All I felt was heaviness and exhaustion. Even sounds were muffled as if my head was underwater. I wasn't sure anymore. Where was I? Was I safe? Is Akhdan being tended to?<p>

Huh... it's all so... funny... here I was wondering if my friend had faired well when in the back of my mind, I could hear the short verses of an old lullaby my mother used to sing, and later what I sang in those dark hours before I would fall to sleep in the most restless of nights.

_Feel that gentil breeze on your cheeks  
>That lively sun at its peeks<br>And you wish to breeze  
>That this moment will never leave<br>Feel the soft blanket on your shoulders  
>As the air just keeps getting colder<br>And you wish to the snow  
>That this moment never goes<em>

I could hear my heart pounding relentlessly. But I couldn't breath; every fiber of my body was sapped of strength. The fatigue... it was unbeatable. I could already hear the voices... they were coming back to me again.

_"Such an idiot. Doesn't even know how to aim straight."_

_"Hey, kid! What's with that funny look you're giving me?"_

_"Your drawings are pointless. A waste of your time. If you really want to be an assassin, then you can't spend the time drawing!"_

_"What a loser. She's hopeless."_

_"She's a danger to everyone! It's best to get rid of her!"_

_"I... hate you..."_

Now I wanted nothing more than to fall back into complete darkness. The pain of being awake was too much a burden. So I eased out, but much too slow for my liking. The last thing I heard was a simple, "Hang in there, Novice." before I fell under once more...


	9. Rest up

All of me felt like lead. My head pounded harshly and I could hardly breath without a flash of pain through my back. It was like my skin was tearing slowly... slowly ripping apart with ever slight move I tried to make. Oh how I wanted to cry out in pain, but my voice seemed to fail and left me with a weak whine.

Opening my eyes felt like taking a hammer to the forehead. The light was awful, and the sightest sounds I could hear only worsened the headache. I couldn't help but groan.

The door opened and I strained my eyes to look at the visitor. No other than Malik, his look was at first one of unreadable emotion, but it quickly formed to a bit of surprise before he settled again. "Red. Good, I didn't think you would wake up up so soon. How are you feeling?"

I tried to bring my hand up to massage my temples, but when I even tried to move the fingers, my arm flashed with pain. "Sore... what happened?"

He sighed and looked down. "We hardly got you back here alive after that failed mission."

Failed mission? I gasped as the shock of memories came with more pain. The blood, Akhdan being stabbed, the marking on my arm, Malik trying to drag me along... "Is Akhdan alright?"

Malik shook his head. "I'm sorry... But he was dead; there was nothing we could do."

It seemed like I forgot to breathe then, my heart slammed as I remembered the moments that moved slow slowly in my eyes, of Akhdan shoking on his own blood until he died. I clenched my fist before looking back at Malik, my vision getting hazier. I felt like I was choking when I struggled out, "He's... gone...?"

He nodded, I could just barely see it as the tears escaped from my eyes, and I gasped with the awful pain I felt. I kept yelling at myself in my head, trying to deny it. He wasn't dead. He was alive. He was safe and sound. I would see him again soon. But I kept finding that same revolation coming back and hitting me like a heavy hammer. He was dead and I couldn't save him...

"Red, you should rest," Malik told me with what I found to be insultingly calm. How could he not be in pain? Akhdan was dead and he didn't seem to care!

I continued to sob, trying to breath despite the heaviness I felt. The pain I felt was unbearable. I couldn't even sit up, only turn my head to the side while the tears streaked over my nose and dripped onto the table. It was all my fault. I should have gotten him out of there, I could have saved him before he was murdered. The only one to blame was me.

"I will come back later to check on you," Malik said, "alright?"

"Sure..." I answered weakly. I honestly only wanted to be left to cry. It was a relief when Malik took his leave and let me whimper myself back to sleep for a few more hours...

* * *

><p>It was like waking up from the dead. Everything was sore, my eyelids were heavy, and I could feel my pulse in even the soles of my feet. But right away, I sat up and stared at my lap for a long moment as I tried to access the damages. my shoulders wounded, my arm mangled, my leg a mess, and my wrist still broken. This should be a fun day.<p>

Standing up was almost like walking with a numb leg, frustatingly difficult. I stumbled and had to catch myself with the table before I could crash. And after that, I was immediantly greeted by some stranger in assassin's clothing.

"What do you want?" I questioned with a hiss of pain.

He took hold of my arm and guided me back to the table and mat. "Lay back down, you're still too weak to be moving around. Your leg must heal as well as your shoulders."

"I don't care," I said sharply, "there's no point. I'm useless."

"You're not," the stranger told me harshly. "Now lay down."

With everything I felt, I wanted to burst. "What's the point? I could have saved him! But I didn't do anything! I couldn't do anything! My best friend... gone..." I looked up and glared at him. "You don't even understand!"

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Listen, kid, I get you're upset. Malik told me what happened already. But blaming yourself isn't going to change anything that's happened. I know what it feels like to loose someone you're close to and you didn't do anything to help them. Even Malik knows it, probably better than both of us. So why not you think about your next words carefully before you even say them." It was the sheer intensity in which he said it, the harshness that bore deep in me.

Why was I acting like such a worthless brat? I was better than this right? Every time someone said the exact same thing, "no one understands me", I always knew the other had a good idea if they were older. I always hated that, so why was I being such a hypocrite.

And Malik? Last time I talked to him, I could have sworn I heard a cold tone. Distance. I wondered if he would hold me to my words later; if I would feel the backlash of my verbal attacks. "Where's Malik?"

For a moment the question took him off guard. He shifted his weight and looked back at the door. "Malik left to make a quick run to the market. If you wish to talk to him then you must wait for him to come back."

I nodded and stared down at my lap for a long moment. "Okay... And... I'm sorry... I just..."

"It's alright," he interrupted, "I felt the same way once. So lost and confused, it almost seemed like I didn't know myself anymore. When I lost my friend, I felt like a chunk of me was torn out." He looked straight at me with dark eyes. "Isn't that how you feel?"

It was... spot on. "How did you...?"

He smiled a little then stared back at me with some saddness. "I was your age when my friend was killed on a mission. It honestly does feel like you're taking knives to the stomach. It's just an awful feeling."

"Thanks..." I then looked at him with confusion, as I didn't know his name.

"Sirja," he finished before walking towards the door. Before he left, he smiled kindly. "Rest up, kid."

I smiled to myself as I realized how nice and calm he had been to me. Had Malik been so patient? It was hard to tell if he ever was with his blunt way of putting things, his straight forward view on situations. It felt like I could trust him. I knew that I could. And I believed it.


	10. Stress Grows

_A few weeks later..._

I stared at the white lines of the scar on my arm, every time I did it brought on a new and fresh bit of pain. Akhdan... why did he have to go...?

"Red, pay attention."

I shook my head and looked back at Malik as he was still looking at the map. Had I really dazed out in the middle of his lessons again? It was becoming more and more frequent now. I had to pinch myself sometimes just to wake myself up from the day dreams. It didn't matter I suppose.

By now, my wounds had healed, old and new. But I apparently needed to work back the strength in my leg if I wanted to climb. Sirja had come more and more to help with that. It seemed like he cared about me as a person, he wanted to help me. Malik just seemed to grow more like a chunk of ice each and every day. Colder and less feeling. I wondered why, but I didn't think it would matter if I asked. He wouldn't tell me anyways. He never told me anything.

Sirja was so trusting; he told me right away how we were alike. He didn't hold back or conceal anything, it was as if I was his friend already. And I was loyal to my friends to the end.

Malik just stared at me for a long moment. "How do you expect to get better if all you do is space out while someone's talking to you?"

I sighed. "I don't..."

For a moment he seemed rather uncertain with my answer. Maybe he was questioning my seriousness again. I didn't know. "Red, don't forget why you came here."

"I know, because the Grand Master wanted you to make me useful," I said, "I know the story..."

He narrowed his eyes, "I swear, Red, you better stop using that tone. It will only bring you trouble." For a moment he closed them all together as he wondered aloud. "Honestly, I don't know what has gotten into you lately." His stared at me with those unreadable, dark eyes of his as he continued. "You weren't this bad when you came here, and you at least were determined then. What is it that makes you so distant now?"

I shrugged, not like I cared about his point. "I'm not the one who's being distant."

Now I should know better than test Malik like that, and it's fair warning to shut the hell up when you catch his hand curling into a fist. But still, I wanted to get him mad. I needed to feel something other than hollowness. And the only one who really made me feel important was Sirja, and he was off doing some sort of small job. Regardless, given a choice between the emptiness and anger, I would want the latter. At least I would know I'm alive.

"You say I'm distant?" Malik breathed slowly and relaxed a little. It seemed like he didn't even want to try and retort. "Maybe I am. But you, little novice, are more so than I am."

So he was just going to give up like that? I don't think so! "Yes, Malik, distant! You've always been, and I'm sure you recented my presence from the beginning!"

I could see the tention return to his features. Good. "Recent. So you believe I recented you. If I recented you then I would have sent you back to Altair a while ago."

"You hate me, just like everyone does!" I argued. "It's almost like I'm waste in your eyes! I'm not!"

That just about did it. Malik grabbed me by the arm and practically shook me around, "I don't hate you, so get that idea out of your thick skull!" But he stopped himself after that, his hand fell from my arm and he looked back at the map on his desk. "Go calm yourself down in the other room. Think about what you said before even considering coming back in here."

So he would treat me like a child? Fine. We'll see how well I listen! I glared before walking into the doctor's room and sitting down on my mat. I was too fumed to think about any of it. I just wanted to yell and prove him wrong. I'm not useless, no matter what he thinks.

* * *

><p>"Dammit!"<p>

Malik breathed heavily as he relaxed his fist after punching his desk with enough force to knock the incense pot over. When did Red become so moody? And what happened to the sort of likeable, determined kid who walked in here weeks ago? He didn't know, and he wanted to. But the only one who would have a clue is Sirja, she only talks to him on equal ground now.

Speaking of Sirja, he came walking in with a small bit of hesitation. "Is this a bad time to come and check on Red?"

He waved him off. "Oh by all means, go ahead and check in on her. She only tells you anything anyways."

Sirja's slightly hurt expression was clear in the corner of his eye. "Malik, I didn't mean to pry inbetween you and your student." He looked down with guilt. "If I must, then I'll back off."

No matter how much Malik would have loved to have Sirja just leave for a while so he could figure out what was going on, he knew he couldn't depribe Red of some form of a friend. Akhdan was the closest thing she had, and now he was gone. So why leave her completely alone? "No. It's not your fault. I'm sure it's just a stage. She'll grow out of it."

The other smiled and nodded. "Probably. And she did just loose someone she cared about." Then he pulled out a letter from his robes. "She also has a letter from her brother. I wanted to deliver it to her myself."

Again, Malik nodded. "Go ahead."

* * *

><p>I hugged my knees and stared at the floor with tears staining my cheeks. I had broken down in my self loathing and started crying, but I couldn't keep it very long. The death of Akhdan had taken most of my tears by now. I couldn't cry anymore.<p>

When the door opened, I looked up to see Sirja. Right away I smiled in greeting. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

He held a letter in his hand, seal and all. "Your brother sent you a letter, I thought maybe I should give it to you."

I nodded my thanks and took the letter as he handed it to me. I broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. Right away I could reconize my brother's handwriting as I read it through.

_Dear Red,_

_I hope your training is going well in Jerusalem. I heard the other day about your injuries in a rescue attempt to save Akhdan. It was truly a brave thing, little sister. But it saddens me to hear of his passing. Don't blame yourself too much, I'm sure you did all you could.  
>The true reason I'm writing to you is because mother has grown ill as well as Anne. The doctor isn't sure what it is, but I hope those two pull through it. They're strong, but they get worse every day. Claire is scared and cries now. She and I both don't want to loose them.<br>Please respond when you have gotten the chance. I am eager to hear of how your training is coming along._

_Good luck,  
>Rowe<em>

My fist clenched a little before I puffed out my unease a little. "I wish I could go home..."

Sirja nodded. "You know, if things aren't working here then you always can. I know just how you can go back too without punishment."

I looked up with curiousity. "Really?"

He smiled. "Of course. But you mustn't say a word of it."

"Alright," I agreed. Somehow I didn't feel so uncomfortable when he leaned in closer to tell me of his plan. I knew I could trust him... and that's just what I could count on.


	11. Break Away

**Thank you all who have taken the time to review. Reading your comments really makes this all a whole lot better. So thanks and enjoy the new chapter.**

It seemed like a few hours now, Malik realized. He hadn't heard a word from Red or Sirja, not a sound to even indicate any movement. Very unsual. What he would have expected was Red's voice, the scratching of a quill on paper, shuffling, or Sirja's friendly tone. This was very odd.

Of course it was enough to rouse Malik's suspitions, so he walked down to the door and knocked with the knuckle of his index. "Red?" No answer. "Sirja? What's going on?" Still nothing. "Are you two ignoring me or something?" Absolute silence. "Alright, I'm coming in." He then pushed the door open to see no one inside. Only the secret door in the floor opened. Even Red's bag was missing.

He clenched his fist as he came to the conclusion that she ran away. But why? Was Sirja going after her? How did she know about the escape door? And where could she have gone? Grumbling to himself, he went to his room and equiped himself with a few throwing knives and a light sword before walking back to go down the passage. Before he even dropped in, his eyes caught sight of a note on the table. So he walked over and read it through.

_Malik,_

_I can't stay here. We don't get along and I know I'm useless. Or at least I am with you. Sirja has brought out the best in me; I'm stronger and faster than I would be with you. He taught me more than you have and he understands me more. He has even promised me that I'll have my revenge on the traitor who had Akhdan killed. I don't need you, so don't come looking for me._

_Red_

So she did leave. He slapped the note back down on the table and glared at the passage before dropping down it. No matter what she wrote down, he wouldn't just let her run off. No, she was his responcibility. How could he even think to let her out of his sight for a few hours and think that she wouldn't pull this off. And Sirja? He thought he could trust him, but this? Was there only traitors among the Brotherhood now?

"I swear, you're going to wish you never wrote that when I'm through with you."

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?"<p>

Sirja looked back at me and smirked. "We're going to kill the traitor." Then his smirk faded to a frown. "We would be a lot closer if you hadn't taken the time to write that note."

I casted a smart ass grin. "What can I say? I feel the need to explain myself."

"You don't trust me." He guessed.

Far from it! I trusted him. And if I didn't then I wouldn't be going along with this. He wouldn't let anything happen to me, right? Right. I just didn't want to let someone worry. Though I think my note might not help. At least he knows what I think. "I do."

He then opened a door to a church and stepped inside. "He comes here every Sunday now. I suppose they converted the bastard."

I followed him inside and we came to a second large door. Behind it I could hear a man speaking in Latin and a bunch of people chime in "ahem" every so often. It reminded me of when I was so much younger. My mother took me to church then, but when I was seven, that came to an end. Since that all I truly believe is multiple lives, past and future ones, and spirits. That was all and it suited me well. But still, the feeling of a church held small memories of my childhood.

"We'll wait until the old man stops preaching before we make our move, alright?" Sirja planned.

"Okay." I agreed.


	12. The True Intentions

When the old man inside stopped talking, a chorus took over with harminizing voices that chimed deep in my mind. I almost wished I could yell inside for them to quiet down, but I knew that would rouse suspition. All we had to do was wait for the session to end and the traitor to walk out into the open where he would be assassinated.

"Don't get too comfortable," Sirja said out of the blue. His finger pointed to a figure get up from the pew and walk towards a door on the other side of the room. "Seems our target is on the move. Show me what you've learned and jump over those beams to the other side of the room. When you're there, there should be a ledge with a small door. It's where they send some child up to clean the pipes of the organ, so there should be a ladder on the other side of the door."

I nodded, it seemed simple enough. Then with care, I got to a crouch and jumped to the first beam. Unfortunately my leap was very miscalculated, I couldn't stop myself from going forward after my feet landed on the wood. I waved my arms and took a shallow breath to suppress a yelp of fear. I still went forward and I barely managed to grab the next beam. Heart pounding and feeling dizzy with fear I stared down at the civilians below who seemed so absent minded of my presense. With a puff of air, I pulled back onto the beam and clung to it as I tried to get myself back into gear.

Very soon I was ready to continue, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment. Sirja was watching, and I didn't think that making mistakes like that would make him very proud. I bit the inside of my cheek and jumped for the next beam with much more care. This time, I wasn't so disbalanced, but my knees shook and my thigh had a steady ache. It was one after the other, a repetitive process of leaping to the next, until I reached the other side. There I could breathe a sigh of relief before opening the tiny square door towards the other side of the platform, near the pipes of the organ. The very noise was ner deafening itself.

When I closed the door behind me, I looked down below at the occupants of the room. The traitor was there, speaking with another. A middle-aged, bald man in white robes and a cross over the front. Hmm... a priest prehaps? I could tell that this was no sort of confession, more like an exchange of information. The traitor handed the man a letter efore being handed one himself. Very interesting.

Over the blasting organ behind the door, I could hardly hear them, let alone know what they were saying. So I crept closer to listen in on their conversation, my ears ringing in a high pitched whine as they were recovering from the noise. Now I crouched over them on a wooden beam, eyeing the traitor like a raptor would its prey. All I had to do was jump and I could finish it.

The door opened and another one in the white robes entered. "Brother Henry, there are Assassins in the church."

"Of course there are," the traitor chuckled.

This Brother Henry stepped away from him. "Tibar? You knew they were here?"

My target grinned as he withdrew a throwing knife. And before I could even figure out what happened, I found myself falling with pain lanching through my ribs. I hit the stone floor with a heavy thud as a breathless scream managed to slip past my lips before I could care to hide it. It took me a few moments to push the pain away enough for me to stand back up and pull the knife out of my side. But without a chance to dodge, Tibar grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back until I fell on my ass.

"Isn't that right, little girl?"

* * *

><p>Malik ran as fast as he could, and when he came to an intersection, he froze. Which way had she even gone down? Alfight, he knew trying to think with a racing mind would get him no where. In times like this, it was better to suck up your pride and ask for directions. Sadly, Malik isn't very good at that.<p>

Still it was worth a shot, right?

He went straight to the first bystander he could find and asked, "Have you see a hooded girl running around?"

The man blinked in confusion, then his stare turned into one like Malik had three heads or something. "In a rush today? I didn't see any hooded anyone. Why? You trying to find one of those Assassins? I didn't think they had girls with them too."

With that answer, he facepalmed and grumbled. "Forget it." Then he went to the next. "Have you seen a hooded girl running around?"

This time, the woman seemed to ponder it a little. "A hooded girl? Umm... I think... maybe..."

"Where?" Malik pressed. He needed to hurry. If Red was going after that traitor with Sirja, then he didn't know what trouble she could be in right now.

She thought long and hard. "She was with an older man, right?"

"Sirja," he murmured to himself before replying. "Yes, go on."

The woman pointed down an alleyway. "They headed that way. I heard something about a church, maybe that's where she's going."

"Okay, thank you." He said. Well that wasn't so hard was it? Fine, honestly for him it was only a step up from admitting that he could no longer be an assassin. He absolutely hated to admit anything.

With this, he knew right where to go. That church they built when they started converting civilians, he knew it on the map. Well he draws maps, of course he'd know. So he rushed there, down one road and up another. Soon he was right in front. His hand clenched into a fist for a moment. Red was inside. Maybe she suceeded his expectations and over came the limitations that the torn muscles in her leg caused. If so, then he would really have to stop going so easy on her.

It was in the mudroom where he almost met his fate by a throwing knife to the head. Right away, he looked up to the beams close to the ceiling where Sirja was crouched, waiting. Well that answers that question, seems they weren't on the same side after all.

"What is this, Sirja?" Malik questioned. "Where's Red?"

The man laughed, a glisten in his dark eyes told him that there was some sort of insanity there. Well, maybe there always had, he just never took the time to see it. "Malik. Malik. Malik. You haven't figured it out yet? I would have thought you would have caught on by now. Especially when Red practically gave it all away!"

_The note_, Malik realized. "I already got the idea; she likes you as a teacher."

Again, Sirja laughed almost like this was all too hilarious. "You don't get it, do you? I know how to work with children better than you do! How to work them to my advantage. Red trusts me now, so much more than she does you! And you know why? Because while you were hiding in your little corner, isolating yourself, I was earning her trust! My healing her would have been enough, but I needed to be sure, so I kept coming back! She's so easy to manipulate."

Malik pulled out a throwing knife, but he kept it behind his back as he discreetly observed the room for any way he could use it to his advantage. Already, Sirja had the high ground. All while he did this, he responded in a harsh tone, "So she's a pawn."

"Oh, you seem to really catch on," He laughed. "But for what?"

Of course his first guess would have been to kill the traitor. But then again, why would he be turning on him then if that was the case? It was all too clear now. "You want to join that bastard, isn't that right?"

His smile came to a smirk. "Ah yes, I forgot how smart you are, for a cripple."

Malik clenched his fist. So this lunitic was willing to call him a cripple on top of it? He had a death wish alright. "It's better than loosing my mind like you have! I remember when you used to be a very useful Assassin, and now you stoop as low as to use a girl when she isn't in the state of mind to see through what illusions you lay out! It's pitiful, Sirja, and you know it!"

"Pitiful?" He chuckled. "Malik, I'm getting the feeling you don't even know the meaning. You're pitiful. I don't even have to try to get you mad. I know all your buttons, and I can push them whenever I like."

With a heavy breath, Malik tried to force himself to calm down with little success. He glared straight at Sirja and questioned with underlying sharpness in his voice, "Where is Red?"

Sirja smiled. "If you're thinking of helping her, she's fighting with Tibar in the back. But you'll have to go through me first."


	13. Someone said you were lost

_With a heavy breath, Malik tried to force himself to calm down with little success. He glared straight at Sirja and questioned with underlying sharpness in his voice, "Where is Red?"_

_Sirja smiled. "If you're thinking of helping her, she's fighting with Tibar in the back. But you'll have to go through me first."_

Malik narrowed his eyes and let his gaze fall on a rope that was hanging onto a sandbag. Cutting it should send it flying. In one fast motion, he threw the knife inbetween his fingers up at Sirja, which he dodged as expected. The knife hit its mark without fail.

"You're much too predictable," Sirja laughed. "You think a throwing knife can hit me?"

"Who said I was aiming for you?" Malik grinned just as the sandbag swung and knocked Sirja right off the beam and into the wall. He lay on the floor for a moment before jumping up and pulling out his sword, which Malik did the same.

He was breathing rather heavily, trying to regain himself from the hit he had recieved from the sandbag. "So Malik, you're not as ignorant as I thought. No matter, you can't beat me."

"The arrogent words of a novice," Malik stated. He knew Sirja's moves well, and he could easily find his weak points where his defences were so easy to breech. With one quick leap, he struck the tip of his narrow blade into the man's hip before retreating back a few steps to avoid his thighs sliced by the swing of his foe's sword.

It was almost the same everytime, strike at the opening and fall back before you can take damage. That was until Sirja switched to the offencive and charged right at him with his sword swinging. But even still, he left himself wide open for a counter attack.

Without wasting the opprotunity, Malik kicked Sirja's wrist before pulling the arm down as his ankle wrapped around it. The man fell and he pulled his foot away before kicking him to the side of the head with his heel. Sirja laid on his side as he tried to gather his thoughts, and Malik used it as a chance to kick the sword to the other side of the mudroom and then shealthe his own. Just to be sure, he rolled Sirja on his back and put a foot right on his spine.

"What were your plans? Why did you betray your brothers?" He questioned.

SIrja was breathing rather illregularly, maybe because he was starting to realize the position he was in. "I plan to leave behind the arrogence and corrupt minds. Altair is not fit to be a Master, nor should he even have possession of the Apple."

"This arrogence and corruption you speak of isn't truly there." Malik pressed. "Of course once the man was such a fool, but I've see how he has changed. If anyone was corrupt, it was Al Mualim. And you saw what the Apple did to him, and what he used it for."

"He would have led us to light!" Sirja hissed.

Malik pressed his foot a little deeper. He heard some of the brainwashed civilians say the same thing. Al Mualim would apparently deliver them, and bring them to light. Though Sirja seemed prefectly fine at the time, he wondered now if he had in fact been another mindless follower all this time. "He was corrupted by that artifact. Before he was a good man, I admit, but after I brought that thing back... he wasn't the same." Now he noticed how this was as much an arguement as a personal confession. He knew a lot of this could have been avoided had he left the thing.

"If anyone is corrupted, Malik, then it's you!" The man under him shouted as he struggled under his foot like a bug. At least bugs could be squished.

He knew though that arguing with him was a waste of time. A pointless effort. There was still Red he needed to get to. So he grabbed the sandbag and drpped it down on Sirja to hold him down before he climbed up to the beam and hopped over to the ledge on the other side of the church. Before he could even enter, he heard screams. What were they doing in there anyways?

Slowly with hesitation and unease, Malik pushed the small door open before crawling through. And with his vantage point, he could see exactly what was happening. It didn't mean it made him feel very much better about it either.

* * *

><p>Pain. Torture. That's all I felt. Alright, I think you might be confused actually. Let me fill you in if you weren't listening at all (or I never told you in the first place). After I was knocked off the beam by that throwing knife, the traitor, Tibar, decided he would kill me slowly and painfully. His way of doing that was rip the back of my robes open, take the closest stick, and repeatedly strike me across the back. Actually I think what he was using to be more specific was a fire poker, considering on occassion, if I was trying to hold back anything, he would jab me with it.<p>

That about sums it up. So at the moment I was holding my robes up in the front and shuttering to better cope with the pain. I was certain my back was bruised and bloody, and if it was, then I couldn't feel the trickle of my blood running down my skin. Another strike was all it took to force a pain yelp from me. My eyes burned and my hands clutched into fists as I tried to ward off the pulsing agony, it was no use...

"This time, I paralize you!" Tibar announced, but then he screamed. Still, he managed one more hit, though not paralizing, it did get me in the thigh as I crawled away. There was a throwing knife lodged in his arm, and that fire poker he had been beating me up with was dropped on the floor with splatters of blood.

A hand on my shoulder, I stiffened. "Red, are you alright?"

Quickly, I spun around and stared up at Malik as I got straight to my feet. "What are you doing here? You'll mess everything up!"

He shook his head. "So being paralized was part of your plan? Honestly, what goes on in that mind of yours?"

I opened my mouth to retort, but didn't say a word. He had a very good point... I hate it when he makes these points that I can't argue against. "No... thanks..." I grumbled. "Now let me finish this bastard!" I added sharply as I pulled out a dagger.

"No. He's much too experienced for you," Malik advised. "Let it go."

"But he-!" I was about to finish but was cut off.

"Red! What are you doing?" I immediantly looked up at Sirja, who was standing on the beam. "Malik's trying to protect the traitor, he's with him!"

Right away, Malik turned and glared at Sirja. "So you decided to drag yourself back into this?" He then looked at me over his shoulder then back to him. "I'm not conspiring!"

"Oh please, save your breath," Sirja said. "You make it more than obvious! First you attack me, and then you try and stop her. You're trying to save that wretch's life!" His dark eyes landed on me. "Red, you mustn't let anyone stand in your way! Kill him!"

I nodded and held the dagger up again, studying for an opening. Malik turned to me, his sword still drawn but held more loosely. He was looking at me like I wasn't worth the effort.

"Red, put the dagger away and let's go."

"Do it, Red. Kill him."

With teeth clenched and blood boiling, I rushed at Malik with a cry. I swiped for his arm, but he simply blocked the attack. He anticipated my moves before I even managed to see them through. It wasn't what I expected. Cripples should be easy, right?

Stepping back to avoid my knife, he said quickly, "Red, you mustn't listen to him. You're not like this! Whatever he's done to get you to do this, you can't let it rule your actions!"

Sirja only cut in. "He let your talents go to waste, he didn't teach you anything. You were dirt in his eyes, and now you're more."

"You were always something, I'm sure!" Malik said, dodging another slice. "But think of what you're doing! Do you remember what I did teach you? I don't think you're useless!"

A headache had settled in as short flashes continued to flicker through my mind. Those times he would teach me things on the maps, a few times we had played chess, even the basic training. How hadn't I remembered them? But it was true, he had been holding me back! Sirja was right!

"Think, Red, who saved you both today and the night of Akhdan's death," Malik continued, side stepping to avoid another attack. "I stopped Tibar from paralizing you! Do you think I would have done that if I thought you were of no use?" Again I stuck, and he moved to the side as I stumbled past. "And I carried you as best I could until I could find him! Sure, he healed you, but I still went through the trouble of saving you in the first place!"

With another attack I struck, he grabbed my wrist and twisted until I let go of the dagger. When I went to fight back and break free, he quickly pulled me straight into him and held me there. Sure he had one arm to work with, but being pinned up against his chest like this was almost like being squeezed to death very slowly.

"Look, Red, I don't know what he's been telling you, or what he hasn't been telling you, but I know he's lying." Malik said darkly. "Did he ever tell you the full extent of the damage done to your leg? I know you feel pain by moving that leg, it hurts your thigh like a knife cutting into it and never gets better. Do you know why that is? Both I and Sirja both know, and did he ever say it?" I shook my head, still trying to push away with no avail. "The parkour training is tearing up the muscles, and without giving them time to heal, they only get worse. Keeping it up while completely disable you from climbing for the rest of your life. Did he ever say that once?"

In truth... I never did hear that from him... Was it true? Then it suddenly made more sense why Malik had been holding me back, he didn't want to hurt me. But why wouldn't Sirja do the same if he cared about me?

"Red, at least let me know you're listening or not so I know if I should hold the lecture," Malik added. But then he screamed, his grip on me loosened as he fell to his knees with three throwing knives lodged in his back.

"This is your chance, Red, finish him." Sirja told me.

I looked down, and Malik stared right back. It wasn't complete anger like I had expected, sure it was there, but it was more some form of defeat I never saw there before. It was like he seemed guilty or something. "I'm sorry... you had to go down this path... and I didn't stop you..."

"Do it." Sirja commanded.

I picked up my dagger at my feet and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry I have to do this... but..." In one swift move, I jumped over Malik and shoved the dagger straight into an unexpecting Sirja. His eyes wide as he stared at me with shock and horror. "I'm not good at following orders."

"You!" He hissed with pain, blood running up into his mouth. "How did you... I gave you a chance to get revenge and this is how you repay me? Stupid brat!"

I twisted the knife to get more damage. "I knew Malik was telling the truth when he told me the true extent of my injuries which you never bothered to say. A true friend would do that, and you clearly aren't one." Then I quickly ripped the dagger out and pushed him backwards, where he landed on his back and continued to bleed out on the floor.

Right after that, I turned back to Malik as he himself started to cough. Tabir must have run off after that interesting encounter, and I'd get another chance. But right noww hat mattered to me was seeing how badly Malik was hurt. The knives were fairly deep to say the least. And pulling them out was difficult to do without extra pain. He was breathing ilregularly as I pulled each out, and when I had finished, he fell forward on the floor.

"Malik! Malik, wake up!" I said, shaking his shoulder. Desperation begun to fuel my struggles as I continued to shake his shoulder and cry. "Malik! Please! I don't hate you! I'm sorry! Please wake up!" I could hear his heart pounding when I pressed close to him in my fear of loosing another friend.

That's when I heard footsteps. I looked up right away to see another assassin coming in through the door. He was tall with dark hair tied back in a ponytail and silverish irises, and he seemed around his thirties. At first there was shock, and then consern. "What has happened here, child?"

No matter how scared I was, I knew I should trust other assassins. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. "Why are you here?"

"I came here to Jerusalem on an assignment, but Malik wasn't there." He glanced down at said man, who I was holding close. "I waited in the bureau for a while, but I felt that it was taking too long. So I went out to find him." He stepped forward. "Here, let me help." I let him pick Malik up as he continued. "We can get back tot he bureau, and there I can treat his and your wounds."

I nodded with much releif. "Thank you..."

Then the church bell started to ring, and this assassin smiled lightly. "I suppose we should get moving then."


	14. An Issue No Longer

One straight drop into the bureau was all it took for me to collapse grasping my thigh in pain. No matter the pain, I refused to scream out. And the assassin with Malik slung over his shoulder, slipped in without any sort of pain. He looked at me with consern before laying Malik down on the pillows.

"Child, do you know where the medical supplies are?" When I nodded, he seemed somewhat relieved. "Good, go in and get them for me. I'll take care of Malik, okay?"

So I rushed inside, grasping at my leg, and gathered up the bandages, the medicine, thread, needles, and all. I didn't know what he needed. Only that he had to stop the bleeding. So when I came out with my arms full, he laughed a little.

"My goodness, you took the entire supply, didn't you?" He noted as I placed everything down beside him. "I'll only need the needle, thread, and bandages out of this." Another once over seemed to confirm his statement. "What I need at the moment is water and some salt."

"I'm on it," I answered, getting back up. The was a bucket near the side of the door, it was there for drinking purposes, but I wasn't sure if there was any others. If so then Malik never asked me to refill them when they ran out. So I grabbed it by the metal handle and carried the heavy bucket out, trying hard not to spill any of it. As for the salt, I had to run back in and look a little bit for it, and I found it on a shelf back in the doctor's room. Well... I knew I missed something... I guess that was it. So I brought it out to him before cleaning up what he didn't need and putting it all away.

I came back out to see him pressing the salt down to the wounds on Malik's back. He had pulled the large cloak off and stripped him down to his trousers and boots to better examine the wounds, and once again I found myself staring at the stump where his arm once was. It wasn't wrapped up in bandages like I thought it would be, but a long curved scar to the side of it, in towards the torso. Like the was a flap of skin on the outside and whoever stitched it all closed used the flap to cover the end.

This assassin glanced up a moment at me before turning his attention back to the wounds. Then he patted the ground at his other side. "Sit down, child. Let me look at that leg of yours."

So I pick a pillow off the pill that Malik wasn't on top of and seated myself with my sore leg out stretched in front of me. "But what about Malik's wounds?"

"It's fine," he said with a soft smile. "That's why I have salt. It absorbs the blood and allows the wound to scab over much faster. I also found that less people get infections using it to clean the wounds. It's only painful is all."

He then slowly touched around the spot where I had been grasping at my thigh. It didn't seem like he was doing anything but poking me, and it sometimes hurt when he hit a sensitive spot. He would apologize when he did. Soon he pulled back and sighed heavily.

"What did you do to mess up your leg so bad?"

"I.. cut my leg with a sword a while back." I answered. "But I didn't rest and made it worse."

When I thought I would be lectured, he hummed calmly and brushed back some of my hair that had fallen in front of my eyes. "Well that was foolish of you. I hate to say this, but the muscle damage might not repair. It's best you not be an assassin so you don't make this leg any worse. It will only get more painful the more you try and force this strain upon it." He look another glance at the thigh and blinked slowly before continuing. "I think I know some ways to help the pain, but it can't change this fact: you can't do parkour. Understand?"

I nodded. "Okay. I understand."

"Good." He said, the seriousness seemed to leave fairly easily with him as he smiled and tussled my hair like I was a small child. "I heard about you, you were sent out here so Malik could teach you, right?"

Again, I nodded. "Yeah."

"And I've also heard that you also have plenty other options open for you." He added. "I think I know exactly what you can do if you want to."

"What?" I leaned in to hear it.

"I could teach you what I know on healing," He said. "It's completely your choice, but I could request to stay here and help around the bureau so I can mentor you."

So this was my opprotunity? I thought I would also be branded a traitor and never trusted again. But this? He had to be joking right? But then again, I couldn't help feeling that this was my only other option. "I would be honored, ...?"

"Nasuh, my name is Nasuh." He finished. "And you're name's Red, am I right?"

"Yes, that's me." I chuckled. "The all around talentless, clumsy novice who can't do anything right."

Nasuh looked back at Malik before waving me to scoot in closer. "Alright, I'm going to begin your first lesson now. These wounds are not too severe, he just is weakened from the shock of pain. Some rest and a little time will do him some good." I watched him get some water on his hand and rub the needle with his fingers, cleaning off the metal object before stringing the black thread and carefully starting to close the closest wound, one right on his shoulder blade; when I saw it now, it wasn't as deep as it seemed before. I observed the quick movements and ease in which he pulled the two edges of the gash together and tied the thread on itself. He then got some more thread and got to the next one.

I noticed how when he threaded the needle, instead of threading it by tying the thread to the hole, he simply pulled it through until the needle hung in the middle of the strand and worked with it like that. There was no sort of knots involved. "Why do you do it like that?"

He strugged. "For one thing, it's much faster, so if someone is bleeding out and every moment if essential, you don't have to waste time. Tying it lets a knot catch the flesh and tears it, or snaps the thread. But this also doubles up on the amount used, so the stitches are stronger. They won't snap as easily."

Okay, that made sense. It was like when my mom was sewing once, she did the same thing. "Alright, I got it."

He tied the second one and passed the thread and needle to me. "Alright, your turn. Remember, don't dig in too deep with the needle, keep it about half the size of your pinkie nail deep. Okay?"

I slowly took the needle and threaded it like he had shown me. Then I went in for the first stitch. I went slowly, my hand shaking because I was afraid to mess up. But I managed to get it through and tie the end and continue on. It was the same thing. Cut the thread, make a straight stitch across, tie it off, cut the thread, and start again.

"I think you're getting the idea." Hasuh smiled as I finished the last stitch. "Now we'll just rinse this off and wrap it up. I should also tell you this in case I can't stay around to teach you everything; change the bandages twice a day for the next week or until the stitches aren't as red, and keep washing them regularly. After the redness fades, he should be able to go without them sometimes, but overnight, keep them on. Give them a few days and then remove the stitches, they should be just fine at that point."

And for the first time in weeks, I smiled back. "Thanks, I really owe you."


	15. A Turn in Events

_Two weeks later..._

"Come on, wake up!"

I groaned and turned over on the mat, an arm over my eyes and my hair in disarray as I found it too hard to drag myself up today. In fact, I really only wanted to sleep in. With Hasuh allowed by the Grand Master to stay, I was able to continue learning under his medical knowledge. And I was quick to learn his definition of teaching me was a lot of studying, diagrams (which I got a lot of chances to draw out), and memorizing herbs to make medicines. Whenever an Assassin in the city was hurt, they came here to have him see to the injury, and that was where I learned more. It was easier to get hands on experience than the rest of it.

A hand then shook my shoulder. "Come on, Red. Get up and greet the morning." Ugh... did I ever mention how much of a morning person this guy was? Even Malik wasn't this bright eyed and cheerful at this time. Certainly not, while he and I were still rubbing sleep from our eyes, Hasuh was very much awake and ready for anything. It took us a bit longer to "greet the day", as he would put it; in other words, our minds were foggy until the evening. And at that time, Hasuh would usually start to slow down, heck he even turned in long before Malik and I even consider it.

I pulled my shoulder away and curled in on myself, "Can't the sun just go away for a while longer?"

"The sun waits for no one, child," Hasuh chimed, and again proded at my shoulder. "Now come on, the sooner you get up, the sooner we can get to work."

Yeah... that's a motivator alright. Get the hell out of bed, and now you have all this studying and work to do! I blame it on my grogginess, the fact I hated working, and the fact that my bed was always most comfortable in the morning. Just... ugh... Alright, I suppose if I didn't get myself up now then I wouldn't be left alone until I did. He could easily the only morning person I've ever met, which made him the best alarm clock.

"Fine... I'm getting up..." I mubbled with sleep still in my eyes as I yawned tiredly. "I don't know how you manage to wake up this early and not drop from exhaustion..."

"I'm used to it is all," Nasuh smiled. "Is it your turn to wake Malik up or mine?"

I sighed heavily. Of course... he woke the grump up yesterday, it's like a chore now, and so that meant it was my turn to risk getting my throat slit by an irritable Bureau Leader who probably would be too consumed in sleep to notice if he just stabbed a novice instead of a Templar. "Mine..."

His smile was that of relief as he patted my shoulder and wished me good luck. So I yawned again before shuffling numbly to the door, then over to Malik's room.

When I arrived here, I expected him to have a large and nicely accomidated room specially suited for his status among the Brotherhood. But I was very wrong. It was pretty small actually, and the only things in there was a bed towards the far side, a desk in the corner with a shelf of books over it, a small rug in the middle, and a basket near the foot of the bed where he put his robes. If anything, it seemed to me like his accomidations were less than what I once had in Masyaf. Even my mother's two roomed house seemed less cramped up than this was.

And if the tight space of it didn't bother you, then it would be the odor of Malik's boots he left discarded near the basket or the smell of his sweat. He never really seemed to care to open the window at all, it was always locked and shut tight, shuttered closed to block out sunlight. So it was no wonder I used to feel tempted to hide my nose in my robes the first few times I came in here. Now it didn't seem as awful as I once thought it was. Perfume to me now was a stench that made me gag if anything, and the smell here, mixed with ink and dusty book smells, seemed rather soothing. It seemed... real.

Of course, I quickly spotted Malik, back turned from the door, curled in on himself with his arm clutching at his side. I could see all the scars that were there on his back, and was able to identify the three from the throwing knives two weeks prior, I could easily stare at the small stump of what was left of his arm. It was typical now, everytime I had to wake him up, there was some sort of nightmare he was having and so he would usually jolt when I even uttered a word in the quietest of manors. Sometimes even opening the door woke him up. I had come to known how light a sleeper the man could be.

I stayed near the door, although it wasn't much, it was enough distance between us so I could shut the door if he were to ever charge at me. It probably wouldn't happen, but I never knew. "Malik?"

I could hear a slight, but sharp, intake of air as his hand moved from his side to push him up and side ways. His whole torso twisted just so he could look right at me. In the darkness of the room, I was still easily able to see the tiny droplets of sweat that had slipped down from his forehead. The constant dark circles from his lack of a peaceful sleep. There was always something that seemed sort of haunted. "Red," he murmured, "of course..."

Slowly, I leaned onto the door. "Who else would be waking you up other than Hasuh?"

"True, but still..." He groaned a little as he stretched and catched another glance at the covers which were kicked towards the end of the bed, possibly in the middle of the night. "I thought sunrise was early, very early dawn, when the sky is still dark, is rediculous."

I blinked groggily. "I know. But then again, maybe we are." Stretching, and humming in content to the pop of my stiff spine, I sighed heavily. "I'll go and get some tea ready..." Then I shuffled out of the door, closing it behind me, to let the man get himself ready without an audience. Not that I would want to watch him get dressed, or undressed for that matter; tending to a man's wounds and being able to see them half naked as a daily routine can do that. Besides, I kept drawing back to the fact that he might be around my father's age, so it seemed exceptionally creepy of an idea that I never dwelled on. But then again, I've seen plenty of young girls married off to men in their middle ages. Thankfully my mother was in charge of me now.

I sat with a small kettle which I placed over a cast iron burner. Lighting the fire was easy, not burning yourself was a different story. Upon pulling my hand away, my knuckle brushed the ede of the heated metal, giving it an unpleasant burn that quickly reddened and blistered. It was minor though, so I decided to see to it after I got the tea ready. I then filled the kettle with water from the bucket and put it over the burner.

When I went back to check on my knuckle, I found it was still harsh red with a small white bump that had formed over it. Hasuh nagged me once when I had these blisters on my feet to never pick at them, bandage them if I must, but try not to pop them. I didn't listen that first time and found afterwards that the unhealed skin underneathe was very irritable and I had to clean it more frequently to avoid infection. So this time I rinsed it with the cool water from another bucket in the physician's room (which Hasuh pointed out that I've been completely missing all this time the second day after his arrival), and wrapped it in some bandages.

Returning to the kettle, I found the water heated to a light boil, small bubbles about the size of cherries rose to the top in quick resession. So I pulled off the kettle and doused the fire before looking over my shoulder to see Malik shuffling in and to glance down at his unfinished map. I knew he was missing the middle district and a large portion of the high class district. Without really saying anything at first, I dropped some tea leaves into a cup and poured the water in. Of course, you can't just do that, it has to be mixed, and to do that, you take another cup and pour the liquid into that and then back into the original cup. You keep doing this for a small while until it's stirred well. When it was, I went up and placed the cup on the desk.

He at least took the time to acknowledge me now, he smiled tiredly and nodded his thanks before picking up the cup to take a sip. Meanwhile, I walked back to the kettle and poured myself and Hasuh a couple of cups. When said man came in, not tired and perfectly alert, I almost wanted to slip something in his tea to make him drowsy. But still, that would be something really dumb to do, and I still needed to learn from him, I suppose one wide awake person is better than no one. So I handed him his cup while I sat by the chess set and started to drink from my own cup.

That was when we heard a cooing outside. I looked to Hasuh, then Malik, before standing up and walking out to the courtyard to see a courior pidgeon perched on the edge of the fountain, a message tied to it's leg. Carefully, I scooped it up and held it with thumbs pinning down the wings, and carried it inside. "It seems we have a message." Letting it go, the pidgeon flapped a little before landing on the table and strutting towards Malik, who untied the knot that held the message to it's leg. The bird simply stood there as he unfolded it and read through it.

From the way a new aura of seriousness seemed to come from him, I got a bad feeling about it. It was only when he put it down though, that I dared to ask him.

"What did it say?"

He drew a heavy breath before looking straight to me. "Hasuh, it seems there's a shortage of healers back in Masyaf. Altair has summoned you back."

My teacher's eyes lit a moment before he sighed and glanced towards me. "But if I leave, then who will teach Red?"

Malik seemed to smile a little as he relaxed in his posture. Very rare of an occurance actually. "Red will be leaving with you. He feels this is truly a chance for her to learn more about being a proper physician, so he wants you both back as soon as you both can. He said nothing else of why other than that it was important."

Suddenly I felt the room grow heavy, my chest tightening. I was going to leave? After so long? I was beginning to think that I would be here for a long time, learning under Malik, but now it seemed I was to go down another path? And what about any sort of doctors here? Could Malik handle that? Did he even know enough of medicine to take care of anyone who should need the medical assistence? All these questions thundered like a storm in my mind. But most of all, it was the thought of seeing my family again. How were they holding up? And mother? Was she still alright?

A hand on my shoulder snapped me from the daze of thoughts. Hasuh smiled assuringly at me, "Don't worry, I'm sure things will work out just fine. We'll show him everything I've taught you, and he's right. Whatever is going on, it's a great way to get some more experience."

"Get yourselves packed up and ready for the trip back," Malik said with a sort of unreadable sense. "You'll leave by noon, alright?"

I nodded slowly, unable to comprehend everything that was happening. So I shuffled back to my room in a daze and begun to pack my things up in my bag with a sort of sluggishness. The room I was sat in held so many memories, all in the last couple of months, and I wasn't sure how I could just leave.

That was when my book fell to the floor and landed on it's spine, opening to a random page. It was the one that contained my two drawings of figures in the proper positions for landings. The roll and the crouch. I remembered drawing those when I thought that being an Assassin would be my life. No, I found that out of everything, no matter the pain I endured, it was not what fate had in store for me. This path down healing that I chose, it felt right to me. And no one could change that.

"Red?"

I looked up to see Malik in the doorway, that sort of seriousness seemed to linger where ever he gaze was solid as mine, just as distracted and lost in thought.

He came forward and crouched down beside me, picking up the book and handing it to me as I put it away in my tattered, muslin fabric bag. Then, from a pouch in his belt, he pulled out a woven necklace. That same one I saw on his desk once a while ago when I first arrived. It's brown strips of leather carefully braided together with a small silver charm in the shape of a bird. Malik seemed to smile, as if reliving some memory where he was once happy, and then looked back at me. "This used to belong to my brother, before him it was my father's, and originally it was a gift to my mother. I know you're probably wondering why I'm telling you this..."

"Malik, what are you...?" I paused midsentence.

"Take care of it, alright?" He finished, pressing it into my palm. I could only stare at it in surprise. What was he doing?

I swallowed heavily and tried to give it back, "N-no. It's fine. If it's really that important, then maybe you should keep it."

He shook his head. "I'm serious, Red. I want you to have it. Besides, that little trinket carries too many painful memories with me, so I could never wear it."

I looked back down at it, the metal charm shimmered a little, like the bird winked. And with care, I tied the ends around at the back of my neck and pulled a smile on. "Thank you." Then I realized something, Malik never told me very much about him. "Malik, can I ask one thing?"

He hummed in responce, half distracted.

"What happened to your arm? And your family?" I asked.

He chuckled lightly, but pained. "That's actually two questions, novice. But I suppose it's only natural that you would ask this... I already know of your own family, now I guess you can know of my own."


	16. Goodbye

_I looked back down at it, the metal charm shimmered a little, like the bird winked. And with care, I tied the ends around at the back of my neck and pulled a smile on. "Thank you." Then I realized something, Malik never told me very much about him. "Malik, can I ask one thing?"_

_He hummed in responce, half distracted._

_"What happened to your arm? And your family?" I asked._

_He chuckled lightly, but pained. "That's actually two questions, novice. But I suppose it's only natural that you would ask this... I already know of your own family, now I guess you can know of my own."_

I leaned in and listened with keen interest. This would be when the vale of mystery behind him would be taken down. I wouldn't miss a detail of it.

"I lost my arm after it had been so severely damaged on a mission." He answered simply. "As for my family, it's a long story. When I was very young, my mother was pregnant with my little brother. I was only a little child then, and I didn't see any sort of cruel fate in the world, I didn't know of death of suffering then. But she died in child birth, and to keep her memory, my father wore the very necklace he had given her ever since. He kept telling me I needed to be strong for my brother, Kadar, that I would have to protect him. I never understood until I was older though when my father was killed on a mission. I never went to that funeral, all I got from the man who went with him was that necklace. I couldn't bare to wear it even then, so I gave it to Kadar. And so he wore it ever since that. I worked hard to protect him because I didn't wish to loose another loved one."

My fingers touched the necklace delicately. "But he..."

Malik nodded. "I tried to keep him away from any difficult missions, and went with him whenever I could. But it was one mission to this very city. He, Altair, and I all came here to retreive a treasure, but all it took was Altair completely disregarding all the rules and getting us all in trouble. He was thrown out and so Kadar and I had to defend ourselves against Templars. My arm was badly injured, which led to it's later amputation, and my brother was killed trying to hold them off. All I could think of was to run over and get him, but he had died there. So I closed his eyes and almost forgot to take the necklace with me. Which brings us to now."

It seemed shocking to say the least. I hadn't expected this. "So Altair...?"

"Do not hate the man though," Malik sighed, he seemed at ease despite the tears that dared to escape. But he was good at holding them back. "Altair later proved he learned his lesson, and even apologized. But I never forgave him for it all, not because I resented him, but because he wasn't the same man who was on that mission. He now makes a wise leader of the Assassin Brotherhood."

I smiled now. "It seems whenever I'm around, he gets nervous. But then again..."

"Pushing one's seven year old son down the stairs doesn't nessessarily make a man feel comfortable around the person." Malik concluded. "Nor does all the other mistakes you've made back in Masyaf. But I'm sure that now you'll be seen in a completely new light."

Now I felt a pang of sadness as I remembered everything that I would come back to. "I know I hadn't told you this at all, but it was before when Sirja..." I looked down and clenched my fists a moment to calm myself. Talking of this mistake was like swallowing a horse whole, it couldn't be done. "But I received a letter from my brother, my mother and my little sister are both ill. The youngest is crying and my brother is worried."

"And I'm sure you will be able to help them now," Malik assured.

I shook my head. "Not even the doctors know what's wrong." Then I had to force myself to calm down again. "And besides that, I will have to deal with my bad reputation haunting me when I come back."

He simply dismissed this, as if I was just stressing over the slightest thing. "It's probably not that bad."

With eyes staring right back at him, I answered. "Before I left, the others would attack me however they could. When I fell on my wrist, it was because two others had chased me up the tower and I had nowhere else to go but down. And when I cut my leg, I did because I didn't want the other students to do that for me. And they tried to go after me while I was there. No one ever seems to forget either."

"And why hadn't you told the truth of this to the Grand Master?" Malik asked. "Sure being known as a rat isn't always the easiest reputation to live with, but at least a rat can be honest."

I shook my head. "No, I didn't. I was about to sometimes, and once I even did, when one of them punched me in the back of the head, but it was my word against theirs. No one even supported me, even though they all saw it happen and they all took pity on me. No one said anything at all."

Malik patted my shoulder, his hand stayed there as he told me, "It's because they're cowards. So long as they are not willing to stand up for what's true, then they will never be real Assassins, only bounty hunters paid with praise and promotion." Something about how he said that told me he knew people who were like that. "But showing them wrong to the public, where no one can deny any of it, can easily destory their pride." Then he let his hand fall and he stood up. His hand held out to me to help me up.

I smiled my thanks and took hold of his wrist as he pulled me up effortlessly with that one arm of his. I looked down to my feet before turning around and grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. "Thanks Malik. For everything."

For once, he actually smiled. It wasn't a weak one either, not some sort of tired effort or some wordless sign of slight amusement. No, this was actually a smile, warm and friendly. "Now I could have sworn I was suppose to be dealing with a novice when Altair sent you here. Surely he must be mistaken. Good luck and travel safely."

I couldn't quite go yet, and with one quick move, I jumped up and wrapped my arms around his neck in a hug. Now because I completely threw him off guard, he stepped back before he could catch his balance again. I just held on with my face buried into the dusty smelling shoulder of his cloak. Then I let go, and gave him a sad smile as I walked towards the door. "I hope I come back soon."

Of course, Malik was quick to shake off his confusion. "Um, right. Me too." Then quickly he added, "If you can, then try sending me a letter once in a while."

I chuckled and nodded. "I'll see what I can do." Then I found myself out in the courtyard beside Hasuh, who easily climbed up through the entrance. He stood up there waiting there for me. With a heavy heart, I scrambled up the stone and reached the top with notibly less grace than him, but obviously better than the first few times.

This was when my journey home really started. And all I could do what continue to say goodbye in my mind, and I tried to promise myself that I would be back someday soon. I will be back. And I'd make sure of it.


	17. Home Sweet Home

Five days through of travel on horseback before we saw Masyaf's gates. And a new pain struck me. Fear. Who would be first to make my life a living hell? And although Malik had told me to tell Altair if things should get bad all over again, I didn't know if I could bring myself to tell them anything.

If I couldn't manage to, then I would have to put up with the abuse. Not that I wasn't already used to it.

Just inside the gate, we passed the stable boy our horses and started down the street. I was silent as a mouse, my senses taking in the familiar surroundings, picking up on the slightest differences that had come over the last couple of months. It almost seemed like nothing to the naked eye. But I could see the people, some gone, others with new children. The next cycle of merchants had cycled in while others fillered out to sell what they bought here some place else. It seemed so peaceful, and yet, I still felt as alone as ever. Because now I could see those children playing games, and I remembered and pictured myself sitting up against the wall watching with envy. With saddness.

There was originally a reason why I joined at a later age. I had been born weak, I was a sickly child and could never manage to ever pull off training. Once my mother was kissing a cut on my hand when she noticed something, how my blood didn't taste as metalic as what blood normally did. So she took me to a doctor and before I knew what was happening, mother was making me drink some foul smelling substance that tasted like a coin. And sure enough, I grew stronger after a while, and another time later when I was still young and hurt myself again, she told me how my blood tasted normal now. Though a creepy thing to say to a child, it was true. But because of the experiences I had with my iron deficiency, I grew nervous of doctors and their tools, and also grew a disgust towards any sort of metal taste. Just my blood in my mouth was enough to disturb me now.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as a rock hit me in the face. Right away my hand went to hold my chin, and when I pulled the fingertips away they were stained crimson. So I glared right at the slinger of the stone. It was no other than a seven year old boy with his group of friends. All of them stood close together with rocks in their hands.

"What's the meaning of this?" Hasuh exclaimed, staring down at each boy. "Why are you throwing these rocks?"

One boy, short and plump, held his fist up high and shouted, "She's evil!"

Upon hearing that, I facepalmed. Obviously not even seven year olds forget something stupid. I knew what they were getting at, it was too clear. And now I had to explain myself? I had nothing to say that could truly defend my position in it other than it was a complete accident. "You boys are rediculous!"

"Say you're sorry!" One of them yelled, throwing another rock, which hit me in the cheekbone. "Say you're sorry to him!"

"To who?" I growled. "If anything, you should be sorry for behaving this way to a doctor in training!"

"You'll poison us more likely!" Another boy snapped.

I was about to retort but Hasuh cut in fast. His voice loud and, for once, impatient. "Enough!" He turned to the boys. "Go back to your mentors before I let them know your wrong doings!" He then stared right at me. "And don't argue with those brats. You only make the situation worse."

I threw my arms up and exclaimed, "What am I suppose to do? Let them hit me with rocks? It's not my fault Darim is upset over an accident!"

Hasuh paled a little. "Darim? What would he have to do with this?"

Rubbing my cheekbone, I answered. "Before I left for Masyaf a couple months ago, I tripped and accidently pushed Darim down a flight of stairs. He only got one bruise on his shin, but he seemed pretty made at me for it. Those boys are in his age group if I'm not mistaken, so he probably knows them."

With a nod, Hasuh understood what I was saying. "If this is the case, then we should tell Altair about this. I'm sure he would want to know if his son plays any sort of envolvement in this."

Of course telling Altair sounded like the most logical step forward, it seemed like I was being a snitch. And I never liked that feeling, it reminded me of my little sister when she told mother about everything that didn't go her way. She used to hide behind her like a coward, using her to fight her battles because she knew she would be pumbled. But slowly, she was starting to ween out of such a habit.

"Red!"

I stepped back as the force of the hit came at me full force to my legs. I looked down to see my little sister, Claire, with her arms wrapped around my midsection. A bright smile shining up at me.

Claire was the youngest, a smart eleven year old with blonde hair the shade of the desert sand, and eyes a rich brown. Out of all of us, she turned out to be the petite child, and no one expected her to grow very tall. Right now she only came up to my chest, and I don't think she'll get beyond my shoulders when she's fully grown. We also held very little resemblence, because while I took after my mother's appearence, she was closer to our father's looks.

"Red! You're back!" She cheered. "Come on! Mother wanted me to find you as soon as you returned!"

I felt my mouth open slightly in shock. Mother sent for me? But wasn't she ill? I nodded and looked back to Hasuh in hopes of getting an okay. "Is it alright if I go visit my family before we see the Grand Master?"

Hasuh sighed and nodded. "Fine. But don't take too long, I'm sure he'll grow impatient."

And with that, I let Claire lead me with her narrow fingers wrapped around mine. And I was brought back to the small house I called my home.


	18. I Promise

The inside of the house was just as I remembered it. The main room still with a dirt floor, pillows were stacked towards the side where a person could take one and sit down. To the far side was a desk with a shelf hanging over it, littered with parchments and a particular one pinned down under an ink well and quill pen. Towards the other corner was the range where mother would cook, near it a bucket filled with water and a few bowls in a stack. There were two doors on the far right wall, the one closer to my brother's desk was a storage room, the other beside it was the bedroom.

It took me another second to notice that it wasn't just I and Claire in the room. There was a man sitting on the pillow, one I knew very well. A smile spread across my face as I scrambled towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Uncle!"

As my uncle laughed, I could see the bright smile on his face. He was by now in his sixties, but even still he could be very childish sometimes, a class A joker sometimes. There was a reason I and my siblings called him by Uncle Head when we were younger; he, for as long as I can remember, was balding. The age was clear upon his face.

I hardly had time to squirm when he turned the hug on me and squeezed me practically. "Red! Isn't this a sight! I could have sworn you were shorter last time I was here, what happened to you?"

Practically giggling, I pulled away and told him brightly, "It's been a while, hasn't it. Where's everyone else?"

"They're in the bedroom," he answered. Then his joking demeanor toned down just a tad; I've never known him to take anything without a light heart. "Be careful walking in there. No doubt everyone is going to want to greet the young Assassin herself."

I frowned a little, staring at the floor before chuckling awkwardly. "Hehe... yeah... I guess I should have been keeping up with my letters... Um... Uncle, I'm not going to be an Assassin..."

At first there was some shock, then amusement. "So it was too much for you."

"Ahhh... yes and no..." I said as I shifted my weight to the other side. "I was willing and everything, it's just that my leg..."

That's when he got the message, "So it was that bad. Funny how the doctors over look such a detail."

"Yeah and I'm becoming one," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "Ironic huh?"

Of coure, Uncle laughed and pulled me in for another bear hug. Not that I'm opposed to hugs at all, but if there are two people who can out hug me then it's him and my Aunt. It was after a moment that I got up and smiled to him as I paced towards the door.

"I'm going to see my mother now," I told him, to which he nodded. I opened the door, but forgot to brace myself for what happened next.

Upon my entering, everyone looked up and before I knew it, I had my Aunt hugging me (I come from a whole family of huggers, what can I say?) and my brother joining in as well. I was just squished in the middle. And didn't realize how much of a releif the space was when I was given some. And now I looked over the room in the moment.

Still three beds lined up against the wall as there has always been. I remember on the cold nights when I shared with my little sisters, and we would huddle in close. Now my mother and little sister, Anne, were curled up in a bed together towards the far side of the room. My Aunt had been sitting on the bedside until she saw me walk in, and my brother had also been seated on another bed.

My Aunt and my mother could easily bare a resemblence besides the hair and eyes. While my mother had dark hair, my aunt's was light, growing gray with age that she hated to be notified of (actually she's aging quite gracefully regardless). My mother's eyes were where I got my own, brown and green and gray, while my aunt's were greenish-gray. I suppose figure wise they could be different as well, my aunt was a little bit taller than my mother, thinner as well. But then again, she never had children while her own sister bared four. To add to everything, even though they were the closest in age, they were still thirteen years apart, my mother the younger of the two. But they at least held the defined cheekbones the side of the family tended to bare.

Anne was more like Claire or Rowe, but she was also very much different. Unlike us she had round and heavily freckled cheeks, and blue eyes with a ring of yellow around her pupils. She was a little less than three years younger than me, but she even held the signs of getting a better figure than I would for a while. Everyone knew she would have a nice round butt and perfect hips, sure her breasts might be a little bit better than mine (which were horribly pathetic), but on top of it she was a tough kid. I swear she could beat someone up just for looking at her wrong, which is why we haven't had people breaking down the door for the young thirteen year old. But like Claire, we held almost no resemblence, well her round cheeks covered her high cheekbones, our only real similarity I could find.

Then there was my brother, Rowe. He was easily the biggest guy here, I mean he towers over most people, and was basically a wall of meat and muscle. Unfortunately his body doesn't quite dull the fear one gets if he gets angry, then I even worry what will happen if someone gets in his way. That aside, he always called his steely gray eyes uninteresting, well I found them cool at least. And he also had a thick head of dark brown hair. Now no matter how much he could try, he couldn't quite grow that impressive stash, instead he would always grow some straggly chin strap. Now before you get the idea that there's no sort of brain in there, just a ticking time bomb, he's actually pretty smart too, that's why he's a scholar.

My mother, sitting up in bed, smiled at me and I rushed over to wrap my arms around her. "Mother, how are you feeling?"

"A little better," she said calmly. "I heard what you told your uncle. And I hope you do well like I did." Oh yeah, never mentioned this, but she once was a nurse, so I learned some things from her. It was because of her getting pregnant with Anne that she had to retire from it so early.

I nodded and kissed her cheek, so warm... I knew she had a fever. "I'll do my best. And I'll help you. I'm going to get you a medicine to cure you and Anne. I don't care what the other doctors say, I'll find something."

She tussled my hair a little and wrapped her arms around me again. "At least you came back, and that's what matters to me."

"Don't say that," I told her, "I'm going to make sure you're well again."

My mother smiled that warm and gentle smile of hers before she turned me around and gave me a slight push towards the door. "Go on now, you don't want to keep your teacher waiting for you."

I waved my goodbyes and left them with a new determination. I would find a cure if it was the last thing I did.


	19. The Grand Master

It was upon reaching the fortress that I took notice of some peoples' unwelcoming frowns towards me. In awkwardness, I looked down and hunched my shoulders to make myself smaller, wishing that they didn't notice the failure of an Assassin had returned to them. The boys even knew I wouldn't make it, my lack of work effnic just solidified their claims; it was souly, though, because I was a girl, the apparent weaker of the two sexes.

But the older ones seemed unjudging now when before I would encounter the same looks from them as those my age. What changed? I looked up at Hasuh and figured he was respected among the older men here, maybe they thought he could make some use out of me. Or they heard that I quit trying to be an Assassin and took on a doctor's role; although that was still mostly a man's job as well because of education, it was not uncommon to find a woman who knew some forms of healing, at least it was more acceptible in their minds than me fighting.

Up the stairs to the library where the Grand Master spent most of his time. There he was, scratching something in a leather bound book. He wasn't that old, actually. I couldn't place an exact age, but still, younger than what one would expect. Right now his hood was pulled up, the shadow cloaking some of his face; when he looked up, I just barely could see his eyes. When he stood, I took note of how he locked his knees, exhaustion maybe?

"Hasuh, it's good to see you've return." He greeted. "I trust everything was going well in Jerusalem."

Hasuh nodded, "Yes, everything has. And if not then I'm sure that Malik would have been sending pidgeons to complain about it." I had to bite my tongue at the thought of Altair opening the window to find twelve birds or so perched and waiting to delivery their message, all of which from Malik.

"And Red." _Oh shit!_ I just noticed that I spaced out, and so when I heard my name, I almost jumped. I snapped myself back to the conversation and looked to Altair as he continued. "From everything I've heard, your training to be an Assassin hasn't gone as well as hoped."

I could only dip my head down and stare at the floor.

"I've told you before you left that there is plenty other things you could do besides it," the man went on, "and so I sent you there thinking that what you might encounter could change your mind."

Now I looked right up at him, his expression unreadable. All this time I thought he had been just trying to get me out of the way, he had really been trying to convince me through other means to reconsider my options.

"And now I hear that for the last two weeks you were there, you were under the instruction of Hasuh instead of Malik, to become a doctor," he stated. _Wait, was it a bad thing?_ Why did it sound like I did something wrong all of the sudden? Was I suppose to be strictly learning under Malik?

Then a smile came to his lips as he chuckled. _Wait what? I'm not dead? Maybe not!_

"It seems, Hasuh, you've done your part very well," he said.

I was stammering now, cursing the fact that I studdered under pressure, "W-wait, what? You planned this?"

"Surprised?" Altair seemed to act so innocent about it, in a sort of leaderish kind of way I guess. "I knew you would be too subborn to listen to someone who would be impatient like Malik, so I figured that I should have Hasuh come over and insure that you change your mind."

I clenched my fist a moment before relaxed it again, but my shoulders remained tense. "It wasn't because Hasuh convinced me of anything," I explained coldly, "it was because my leg was tearing up on the inside, and I would lose it if I kept training."

Now this is where the surprise comes in. It seems neither Hasuh or Malik told him this little detail, and now that I saw Hasuh's stiffened stance I began to wonder if I said something I shouldn't have. Maybe I could throw myself out the window before he can rip my mouth off and sew the hole shut.

But Altair didn't seem to angry. "And what was it that caused your leg to tear in the first place?"

"It was when I cut it was a sword..." I sighed.

"So now you feel the backlash of your actions two months before," Altair said, "and this is why you picked becoming a doctor?"

I didn't want to say anything else, afraid that if I did then I would say something else that my two teachers had been holding back on. Maybe it would be better to just bury myself where no one would look and die there. At least the worms would be fed...

"Yes," Hasuh answered. "That was one of her main reasons."

I didn't notice that what stress had been building up in the room had disipated, the two seemed to relax a little, but I was still on edge. Thankfully Altair took the chance to change the topic. "Now one of the main reasons I called you both back here is because we're running low on doctors thanks to this illness spreading around. And since you both are or going to be doctors, I feel you should be here to help where you can. Also, Red, I think this is a good chance for you to learn some things from other physicians, so don't forget to listen to what they're telling you."

So I nodded, not wanting to talk again because I was still thinking that saying something would be disasterous.

But just as I was about to leave, Altair stopped us. "Wait." That's when I felt a hand on my shoulder and I was turned around, the Grand Master was staring at my cheek. "What happened here?" Right away I slapped my hand over it, feeling warm blood ooze onto my fingers.

"I..." _Okay, just calm down. Everything turns out better when you calm down. The rocks weren't your fault..._ "When I had left the sables on my way here, some boys threw stones at me. They looked around seven."

To this, Altair let go of my shoulder and took a step back. "Why is it that I get the feeling that you're implying...?"

"We think Darim might have convinced those boys to do it," Hasuh said suddenly. Now I really owed him, he could take the fall out for inturrupting. Maybe I'm not dead yet. "It seems likely because Red had pushed him down the stairs a while before."

Altair took a short breath. "Darim hasn't been holding a grudge about it, not an obvious one if one at all, so if these boys were doing it for him then it probably wasn't because he told them to." I wasn't totally surprised that he was defending him son. It made sense. I mean, wasn't that his job to make sure his kid stayed out of trouble? "But regardless, I'll ask him about this, this way I can figure out who to really punish."

I and Hasuh nodded with understanding.

"Now, Hasuh," Altair turned to the man and gestured to the stairs, "I think now is a good time to show Red where she'll be staying, seeing as she is not an Assassin anymore."

Hasuh smiled and turned to me, and so we walked down the stairs and away, leaving Altair to return to that journal of his.


	20. Make yourself at home

My room seemed well suited for it's purpose. Though about the size of the medicine room back in Jerusalem, there was also more in it. A table with a mat set for any patient that needed around the clock doctor supervision, and near it an entire bookshelf with herbs, bandages, a bucket of water, and so on. But unlike Jerusalem, I wasn't sleeping on the floor. Instead of that there was a wide bench with a bunch of pillows by one of the two windows (the other window was a bit to the left of it beside the bookshelf. On top of that, there was a desk with a shelf hung over it already containing a few books; I could see that they supplied me already with a bit of parchment and ink. As it seemed, this place was very well accomidated: my assumption was because it was probably harder to get the same things in a Bureau.

"Hmm," Hasuh smiled a little. "This room hasn't changed a bit since the last time."

I looked up at him with a questioning look. "Last time?"

"I used to be set up here," he explained, "but when the illness started a month before, I had to move in with another doctor down the hall when we needed all the space we could to house all the physicians who were here to cure the sickness." His gaze fell to the table and mat, as if seeing a phantom taking shape in the dust speckled light streaming from the window. "Unfortunately, all the doctors seemed to be doing was getting sick themselves, I was smart enough not to handle a patient without some precausions. The man I was sharing a room with died a couple weeks back, hacking up blood and sporting a high fever, I even fear that I might soon catch it myself."

With an understanding nod, I looked around. "So how old were you when you started your training?"

"Eleven," he stated in an air of distance, as if lost in his thoughts. "My father shattered his rib cage after a fall off the roof and couldn't move from the waist down. I wanted to know how to help him then..." Suddenly a smile crept to his face. "It seems you can't fix everything with medicine and time, right?"

How he managed to say that with such a light heart is beyond me. "Yeah... I suppose. I just hope I can help my own family."

"I can help if you wish, just ask and I'll see what I can do." Hasuh told me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Now, I'll leave you to get unpacked and get some rest. But tomorrow we'll resume our lessons, so I'd better find you up and ready when I come in to get you, or else..." hmm... he never finishes that threat anyways. I already knew what his _"or else"_ statement meant: he has to wake me up, and usually isn't very civil sometimes in doing so.

I rubbed the back of my neck. "No worries, I'll be ready." Besides, he continued to drill me on waking up early even when we were on our five day travel here, and also on different herbs and their importance. Agh... I needed to update on my medicine log with that (basically I've been drawing out plants and writing down the uses in my journal so I have a reference to go by).

With that, he walked out and I got to unpacking. Not that it didn't take too long, I was just distracted. Outside the window, I could see the training grounds, where young recruits were going through drills with their teachers...

_"There isn't any way she'll keep up!"_

_"Yeah! Just let her sit there, Mentor. That disgrace isn't worth the trouble she's causing, let us get rid of the frustration."_

_"This is just... pathetic..."_

_"Arrrgh!"_

_"I can't believe... she actually..."_

_"That's it! Nesim, get a doctor to see to the leg, immediantly!"_

_"Yes."_

_"An Assassin should not be hurt in battle, especially not by their own sword. Red, you have too much to learn."_

_"I... ughh... sorry..."_

_"That's right! Fall on your knees you little weak twig!"_

_"nghhh..."_

_"And whose fault is that, failure? You did it yourself!"_

I quickly put my hand to my thigh at the painful memory... It seemed so fresh in my mind that I remember the exact pain of the sword cutting through my flesh. The blood as it seeped down my leg was so warm. Right away I shook my head and looked back to my bag. I still had to get myself cleaned up from my travels, and I knew just where to go to ease back for a little bit and dull my pains.

After finishing with the unpacking, my journal put away on the shelf and my ink set placed in a drawer, I left my spare change of robes in my bag as I walked out into the hall.

The flagstone walls opened in an archway where the main room was, cots and tables ready to be used, there were even some patients there already. I even saw Hasuh speaking with another as he looked up.

"Red? Where are you going?"

"I'm just going down to the cove for a little bit," I told him. "I'll be back soon."

He nodded, knowing where I meant by the cove. "Alright, don't stay out past dark, you have a curfew."

Did I ever mention that one little catch with him? I could leave his supervision as long as I was back before dark, my curfew, and I told him I would be gone and he agreed to it. So honestly, he was a lot less strict than Malik who didn't really let me leave unless I was running to get something from the market. Oh well... can't be helped, can it?

The cove was down a long dirt path towards a river down below. Down there was a spot where the rock face came in to make a small overhang, usually cool with the shade it was given and the breeze that the moving water gave. During the summer, it was a frequent spot for the novices to wash off sweat after a long day of training. Sometimes you could catch even a Master Assassin relaxing in the shade of the rock face after a mission, cleaning the dirt off from their travels.

When I arrived, it was empty. The cool, moist air brushed through my hair lightly as I placed my bag down and started to pull off my boots, belt, sash, and over layer of the robes. So I just stood there in a long white shirt and black trousers before I sighed and pulled them off as well. I would have gone right in, but before I did, I took the time to clean off the sweaty, dirt crusted gardments and hang them off a nearby tree in the sun to dry in the cool breeze.

I looked over my shoulder again and stepped into the water, and sunk in until I was almost completely submerged. Suffice to say, I needed the time to let the cold water relieve the ache I felt in my thigh and my shoulders. The stiffness was almost worth complaining about, but I wouldn't want to deal with one of Hasuh's medicines. Poppy loaded and aimed to knock one's senses out of their head. I'd prefer it if I could avoid it as well as I could.

I just sat there rinsing out my hair for a few minutes before laying back and relaxing a little. Nope. No one was here, so I was perfectly fine. No need to worry about someone watching me... I would have noticed the feeling of eyes on me if that was the case.

What seemed to be a suitable amount of time later, I got out again and changed into my clean set of clothes, my original set still not dry, and pulled back on the boots, sash, and belt. Wringing out my hair a little to get rid of the access water, I pulled off the damp clothes and stuffed them into my bag before making my walk back up to the fortress.

Had I considered things, I would have gone back right away. But I looked up at the sky, tracking the sun to about three forths through it's ark across the sky, and figured I could easily kill a little more time and walked out into the village instead to see what else had changed.

But I never figured that anything could have happened to me.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed at me, and before I could turn and slap him off, my hair was grabbed and I was pulled backwards until I was clutching at my head biting my lip so I wouldn't scream. I could taste the blood on my tongue. Whoever this was, he wasn't pleased with me, that was for sure.


	21. Grudges

_Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed at me, and before I could turn and slap him off, my hair was grabbed and I was pulled backwards until I was clutching at my head biting my lip so I wouldn't scream. I could taste the blood on my tongue. Whoever this was, he wasn't pleased with me, that was for sure._

That's when I heard the voice in my ear, the sort of cracked voice of a teenage boy, "Looks like you still didn't learn a thing." Then I was shoved forward and grabbed by another boy who pushed me back to the first. Like I was the ball in a game of catch. That game was only brought to an end when I tripped and fell face first in the dirt road. My side burning.

Breathing heavily, I rubbed the dirt from my face and looked up just before my hair was once again grasped tightly in one of their fists. This time I couldn't hold back the yelp of pain that jumped from my throat. Both burning with humiliation and anger, I asked my attackers with venom dripping in my tone, "Why are you doing this?"

"Oh you don't get it do you?" He chuckled, and then one of his friends stepped in front of me, his gaze seemed less... bloody thirsty than what I would have assumed. But then again, the others... they had murderous looks in their eyes. "You're a disgrace to our order, weak and niave, no one will miss you. In fact, they'll be happy when they know you're gone! Do it, Asif!"

The boy in front of me flinched a little at the sound of his name. His amber eyes studied me, as if actually beginning to wonder if I was worth it. _Well if that was the case, then fine! See me as worthless as you want, at least I might be spared!_ "Numair, what's the point? I think you got the message accross. We should return."

"No." This Numair hissed, his hand tightening in a strong fist around my hair. "No, no, no. Not until I give this rat what she deserves!"

_What I deserve? What did I even...? Oh no... not this again..._ I trembeld a little, teeth clenched tight as I tried to glare out through the corner of my eye at Numair to no avail. "What did I do then? Why punish me if I don't know what crime I've committed?"

"Shut up, you!" He shouted, tugging my head back with much force that I screamed in pain. "I know you remember! It was that day at the training circle! I know you remember it! I made sure it would stick with you!" I could hear a strangled sob. "You killed Nimr! Because of you, he's dead!"

_Nimr..._ I knew that name... He was Numair's twin brother, they did everything together. Everything except fighting. It was the same day as when I cut my own leg. Before I had, I was in a sparring match with Nimr with real swords. It was suppose to be a training match at least, until the boy got motivated by the cheers of other students and stepped up his game. I was trying to defend myself from brutal strikes, heavy blows of the blade were enough to knock me down. In my panic, as I was on my back and he was about to point the sword to my nose, I shoved my sword deep into his stomach. But right away, I knew what I did and pulled it out as he fell down clutching the wound. Everyone stared at me like a killer that day... And too afraid to face the mob of angry students who were Nimr's friends, I sliced my leg in order to be taken away, and be spared. Altair hadn't been given the full story at the time either, so he wasn't aware that what I had done was completely out of self defence.

Or so I'd like to think at least. I still feel a harsh guilt about it. The first man I ever killed... was a brother... Why I wasn't executed was beyond me.

"Do it, Asif! Do it now!" Numair yelled.

I went forward as it seemed my hair was released, and I fell on my hands and knees, looking over my shoulder to see none other than my brother. Rowan had a hand gripping Numair by the back of the neck, and a dagger in his other. In Numair's fist was a large wad of light, pale brown hair. Upon seeing that, I reached back to feel where my hair came to a sudden, choppy end at the center of my neck.

"You leave the girl alone!" Rowan growled. "If you don't, I won't hesitate to kill all five of you!"

Now normally an Assassin wouldn't be scared my a scholar. But damn, my brother was one scary scholar. Like I said before, he was big, and could easily crush a man with brute strength. On top of that, he was smart too, so he could easily figure out how to best you. If anything, he would have made a lot better of an Assassin than I did.

And these boys knew it too. With fear in their eyes, they ran from him, and I sat on the ground feeling my now bare neck and looking up at him with some sort of fearful graditude. At least I knew I could count on him when it mattered.

He pulled me up easily. "Sorry about your hair, are you alright?"

Shivering now, I nodded slowly. "Y-yeah... I'm fine... thanks..."

He sighed and lightly touched the uneven ends of my shorter hair. "Maybe we should go back home and have mother neaten out your hair."

I shook my head. "No. I can do it myself. But tell her and Anne I said hi."

With a smiled he nodded and patted my shoulder. "You'll make it back alright?"

"I should be okay," I told him. "I'll see you around."

And with that, I walked away towards the fortress, still touching the unneat ends of my forcefully cropped hair. But then again, if Rowan didn't do it, then what might have happened to me then? Or what else could have become of Numair. It seemed that the small sacrific of my curls was better than a dagger lodged in the boy's hand. Well... at least it would grow back.

When I returned to the medicial hall of the fortress, I was quick to spot the startled look on Hasuh's face.

"Red, what happened?"

I shrugged. "It's nothing of importance..."

"But...!"

Cutting him off I repeated again a little more strained, "It's _nothing_. Now let me be."

Right away he snapped, "But your bleeding!"

I froze upon hearing that, and became conscious of the warmth trickling down my side. But how did... they must have been using weapons before... I just didn't notice.

"Come on, I'll see to it and you can tell me what in the world happened while you were gone." Hasuh said in a sort of parent like way. Of course, I couldn't disregard his concerns, he had every right to them.


	22. Murderer

I sighed heavily, staring at the uneven strands through a mirror before picking up a knife and, with great care, begun to cut off the longer bits so that the messy cut would be less noticable. Soon it was fairly neat and I quit messing with it. Maybe having my mother cut it would have been a better idea.

Just as I tried to stand back up, my side flared with pain and I slapped my hand to it. My mind running back to earlier when Hasuh wrapped the wound up.

_"Care to tell me what happened?"_

_"There were these boys... And they wanted to get even for something I did before. So they were going to..."_

_"Going to what?"_

_"... They would have killed me... but my brother came and got me out."_

_"And your hair?"_

_"They were holding me by it, and so my brother cut it so he wouldn't cut the boy's hand."_

_"I see..."_

_"This isn't something of concern, there's no real need to bring it up with Altair, right?"_

_"I'm sorry, but if these boys are going to kill you, then this is an issue that needs to be addressed. Who were they?"_

_"I don't know their names... only that they are commoners..."_

I clenched my fist a little in spite of myself. I couldn't believe I just lied to him like that. These were no commoners, these were Assassins in training, Novices. They could very well kill me and I wouldn't have a chance at all. In fact, I think I might just be doomed because they're Assassins. This was really their fortress, they had access to everywhere in it besides the dungeon without permission, and so I came to the conclusion that at any time they could walk right into my room and run a hidden blade through my throat while I sleep.

Maybe I was overthinking it all. Seriously, no one could be that insane, right? Right. I think.

So with a heavy sigh, I put out the candle and laid down on the bench, staring out the window for what seemed an hour before I drifted to sleep.

* * *

><p>I woke woken up by a hand grabbing my throat. My eyes grew wide as I stared at Numair through the dark, his eyes ablaze as he held on tight to my neck. I gasped and tried to scream for help, but nothing more than a strangled yelp came out. Panicing, I tried to pry his fingers off, but slowly found my vision failing and lungs burning.<p>

"Le- le..." I couldn't speak.

"Rest in peace," he said sourly, "murderer." Then he shoved me up until I was standing, he he stepped up on the bench. I found myself hanging out the window, only the edge of my feet still touching the edge, and so my heart started to slam. Before I knew what had happened, I was falling down.

The wind rushed past my ears as I tried to reach for something, anything. But in my blinded state, I was reaching out at thin air. But something did catch me, I felt the shockwave as my body came to a sudden stop rattle my bones, by the foot. In that last breif second, I experienced another instence shock as my head and back slammed into the stone wall of the castle. Everything black once more.

I found myself slowly come to to see a boy's face in a bunch of blur. I felt nothing but confusion. I was pretty sure we were in a hallway, the candles on the walls illuminated the passage. But I panicked, why was I here? Hadn't I been in my room? So I tried to squirm away, but found pain shoot up through my whole body, mostly my head and side.

"It's alright. You're alright." This boy soothed, pushing back some hair from my eyes. "You're going to be fine."

Where had I seen him before? Oh wait... yeah... he was one of the others who was with Numair. Umm... the one that was hesitating on killing me. That's right.

Another few figures were running in the corner of my eye. But I could only reconize Hasuh's voice. "Dear Allah, Red!" I felt another pair of hands push me up, but the action in itself made me dizzy to the point where my head lulled back and my vision flittered away, but I could still hear them over the pounding of blood in my ears. "What happened?"

"She was thrown out the window," the boy answered. A warm hand held onto mine, not tightly, as if expecting me to squeeze.

"By who?" Hasuh pressed. A long pause. "Who was it, Asif?"

"Numair!" Everything was silent except for someone's harsh breathing. "It was Numair..."

"Why?"

"He and a few others ganged up on Red earlier today," Asif answered, "and I was with them. He told me to kill her, but I refused and Red's brother came in. Numair told me later that this wasn't over, and I assumed he would kill her himself. Another told me he planned to throw her out the window, so I waited down here to catch her."

"But why didn't you tell the Grand Master if you knew this would happen?" Hasuh questioned.

Pause. "Because when I heard this, I was almost out of time."

I could hear Hasuh's long sigh. "Alright. I'll believe you. Go and report this to the Grand Master. I need to see to Red."

And with that, I was scooped off the floor and carried off down the corridor. Slowly, I let the steady movement lull me back to sleep.

**I felt like I've been keeping everyone waiting a little bit too long. So here's the new chapter. Sorry about the sloppiness, I was rushing to get it done, forgot what I was writing, took an insanely long break, and got back to it. So yeah... little choppy. Oh well.  
>And yes I do realize I did just almost kill my story self. Don't take that in an emo or depressed sense... cause I'm not either one.<strong>


	23. How Do I Say I'm Sorry?

_"Rest in peace... murderer..."_

I shot up breathing heavily, my hip the first to burst with pain, then my back. For some reason, my leg felt... almost nonexistant.

"Red!" I found a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at Hasuh's relieved face. "Thank Allah, you're okay! I almost thought..." He trailed off before hugging me, a hand roughly rubbing on my shoulder blade. But I had a feeling he was trying to provide himself with more comfort than what he was with me.

Damn I had a headache... "I'm fine," I assured him, gripping his wrist and giving it a little squeeze. "Honest." I then felt it nessisary to ask, "How bad is it?"

Hasuh casted me a little apologetic smile before sighing. "All I think we need to worry about it a concussion and a sprained ankle. Aside from that, I'd say you're fine."

I nodded and glanced down at my tightly wrapped ankle. "When I get my hands on Numair-."

"Don't bother," he cut in. "Altair already exiled him. Although I find execution would be a more appropriate action, it's up to him. But you have Asif to thank for your survival."

Asif? Oh yeah, that boy who caught me. And refused to kill me before that... seems I owe him quite a bit now.

"Where is he now?" I asked.

"Right now?" Hasuh looked to the door and back. "I do believe that the Grand Master is speaking to him at the moment. He wants the names of all who were responcible." Now his stare shadowed. "Why did you lie about who these boys were?"

Now I swallowed thickly. My throat now dry. "I... I don't know... I just couldn't..."

"Red," great a lecture... "I told you before, if anyone should try anything, then you need to tell me so that nothing can escalate to this. You knew Numair was an Assassin in training, and that his assult and attempted murder was unjustified, so why did you pretend you didn't?"

"I just couldn't, okay?" I answered hastily.

"That's not a good answer, why?"

"I don't want to be a rat!" I near shouted. Then realized how out of line I was being and looked down. "Sorry, I just..."

"Don't be sorry, just don't lie like that," Hasuh said seriously, it seemed sort of odd to me. "Do you know what stress you put on everyone when you do? And then this revenge obsessed boy comes back and tries to kill you again, and now everyone knows you lied about it."

With throat constricted to the point where I couldn't speak, I nodded. _I won't cry. I won't cry._

Deciding he had enough of the lecture himself. Hasuh sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Altair, when he's finished speaking with Asif, said he'd like to speak with you as well."

When he left, I rubbed my stinging eyes, and felt my fingers grow wet. And for what seemed to me like a few minutes, I sat there sobbing until I heard a knock on the door. Right away, I choked on a hiccup and forced down the rest of my tears before answering.

"Come in."

It surprised me to see the Grand Master enter. In all honesty, I thought I would have to walk to his study to speak with him, not him walk to my quarters. If this was because of my ankle being sprained, then I wanted to tell him that such kindness wasn't suppose to be given to someone like me. A liar and coward.

"I- um... Hello, Master Altair." I said awkwardly. I also hadn't been thinking about what I would say to him.

He nodded curtly before walking over to the bench. Now to be polite, I pulled my legs off and sat up to give him some room to sit, which he didn't really refuse. I don't know if I was the only one being polite, or if he was just accepting because I offered, or what. He was difficult to figure out.

"I've been hearing that you lied to Hasuh," he started, voice the epitome of calm but dangerous (like a floor over a pit with hidden loose tiles), "care to tell me why this is?"

I didn't want to look to him, worried I would come to face the belittling stony gaze he would give. But I knew from the corner of my eye that his eyes were masked under his hood, and his head was turned to the ground. Maybe he wasn't looking at me after all.

"I just..." a heavy breath. "I didn't want to be a rat."

Talking to Altair couldn't have been more like talking to a wall. It felt to me like he wasn't listening at all. _No... I'm just being paranoid. But damn it all, at least say something!_

"So I lied," I continued, hoping he would cut me off, "and hoped that Numair would just get over himself. And I didn't think Hasuh would be so angry with me. He never had been mad, no matter what I did."

Finally, Altair proved he had, in fact, been listening with his curt reply, "And did you ever lie to him before?"

"No, not really," I admitted.

I could hear a short breath from his nose. "Then you weren't aware of how he feels when not being told the truth. Hasuh, as I know the man, puts his trust in only a few people. What he feels towards someone is usually stronger than what the usual person might feel, and so, when he thinks he knows someone he truly put his hopes of loyalty and honesty in, he expects that person to be nothing but as loyal and honest as he is to them. As you have seen, he doesn't take to a small fib well, and what you have said to him was beyond something akin to a white lie. I wouldn't be surprised if you need to practically lick his boots just to regain this trust he had been quick to give you."

All I could do was keep my gaze on my lap, taking every word like a slap to the face. So I did betray Hasuh. I hurt him more with just one lie than what could be done with a knife.

"So how do I fix this?" I asked.

"Time," he said. "Let him mend his own heart and be patient and understanding. One does not win back what he has given so easily. I know this better than most."

If I hadn't known better, then I would have been completely caught up on that last part. Either way, I asked, "Do you mean your mistake back in Jerusalem?"

I swear I saw his jaw tighten a little as he shifted his leg a little closer to himself. But he hadn't answered then, so I thought that it was better not to ask. However, before I could make up for it, he sighed and asked back, "Did Malik tell you this?"

"Yes, he had," I said.

"Well that does explain why you have Kadar's necklace," he added, it seemed to the side. "But yes, Malik had not been lying when he told you of my folly all those years ago. But that is beside the point. I have given you what advise I can on the matter, and I suggest you follow it. Also don't lie to anyone, especially to your mentor, unless the truth could endanger more said than unknown. But even still, don't lie to him, because if he trusts you as one's teacher should, he will respect your judgement as to how to go about the problem."

With those words, he got up and left while all I could do was think about his lecture. ANd how much of a bonehead I had been.


	24. How to Save a Life

In the week after, I was slowly testing my ankle, studying like my life depended on it, and tried to give Hasuh a little space while I waited for him to calm down.

Aside from what Altair said, I always put being mad with the solution of give this person some breathing room so they can sort themselves out. I suppose this comes from my family of hot heads. My brother mostly. Hell, my two little sisters had a strong tendency to jump at each others' throats when they disagreed on the least important of matters (I do distinctly recall them trying to straggle each other once, and so I sat on them both and pinned down their wrists. As a result, giving Claire a small scar just below her lip, similar to one I have, when I used my foot to press her down).

However, now that I thought about it as I gave him that space, I reflected on a friend I once had. We had gotten into a dispute over boys, and to my friend, she assumed I had been angry with her when I was giving her this space. So she continued to come after me to ask me why I was mad. In the end, we ended up more distant than the earth is to the sky. Shortly after it, I realized how badly we had been communicating, and how poorly the situation was handled. She wanted to put the situation to rest, and I wanted us both to calm down before that. And I admit her persistance did anger me, but there was other things on my mind at the time as well. I had been venting through the spat about out problems.

Anyways, before I get into more detail and reflection on why my life sucks, I should just get on with this story, yes?

After that week had past, I wondered how to go about in becoming close to him. Huh, maybe sorry goes a long way. But then again, I also seen too many times when it was just empty apologies, so I was reluctant to just leave it at that. Still, it was the next step in closing the rift that had formed.

Where do I find Hasuh that particularly humid day? Where do most people go on a day like today? The cove of course! It's too hot to think, everyones' sweating their brains out. Why not?

And it doesn't surprise me when I see him out some ways in the water, floating on his back. I sighed heavily as I felt nervousness start to eat away at me now. I'd have to get on with it before I cave into the anxiety.

So I started to strip down when I heard a loud crack. And judging by everyone elses' reactions, they heard it just as well as I had, their wide eyes turned up towards the cliff. Hasuh in particular more so before the event that came to follow went by too fast for me to process.

A huge splash and Hasuh was gone. I blinked in shock before I started to panic. Hasuh was gone!

"Hasuh!" I screamed, running into the cool water without removing my trousers or under shirt. Everyone else was leaving the cove, staring at me with sore, empty apologies in their eyes. But I didn't care about them, only where my mentor vanished.

Heart slamming and adreniline pumping, I took a deep breath and dove underwater. I had to take a moment for my eyes to adjust to the copperish scene beneath the blue surface. I could hardly see through the huge cloud of sediment starting to settle again.

There I find him, pinned down at his leg by a large rock. I kicked down towards him and started trying to pull him free to no avail. Lungs burning, I moved down to the very bottom to where his leg was trapped and begun to dig away the sediment until I could pull him out. From there, I wrapped my arm around his torso and used the ground to push my self some ways closer to the surface.

My vision now was darkening, heart pounding, muscles screaming, and head becoming light. _Breathe you idiot! Breathe!_ My mind was screeching. And so I opened my mouth to pull in as much air as I could and found myself taking in water. _No! No! No! No! I'm drowning! I'm fucking drowning! Can't die! Can't die!_

In a last desperate effort, I clumsily kicked up towards the escaping surface before I saw a siloette come over me. My grip on Hasuh was starting to loosen as my body grew surprisingly warm despite the cold water around me. My water logged clothes weighed me down. I was a little surprised when I felt warm arms grab me and Hasuh and haul us that last stretch to the surface.

Blinded by the sun and dizzy beyond belief, I flondered onto shore with some help and clutched at my stomach as I started to violently cough up water. Someone was sitting beside me, carefully rubbing my back to ease me a little as the coughs too became less frequent and harsh. But by then, I was too exhausted to move from where I laid, my vision fading in and out as I dazily watched two doctors tending to Hasuh just a little ways. One furiously slamming down on his chest while the other was examining his leg. "Hasuh..." I could only manage that much before I blacked out.

**Now how's that for being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Take a guess guys, who just saved her and Hasuh?**

**Don't forget to leave a review! Your comments make my day.**


	25. You'll be alright

For some reason, I started to come to feeling like a lead block. I was too heavy to move anything, or what I tried to screamed with fatigue. So I laid there eyes closed, trying to imagine where I was based on the rest of my senses. There was that sweat smell of herbs and medicines, and also an echo only possible in an emptier space. Maybe the main healing room where there were cots lined up against the wall to work. And by the breeze I felt against my skin, I must have been close to the window. But why?

I could hear voices, but couldn't make out their owners. It was almost like my head had been shoved underwater.

_Underwater...?_

In that second, my haze of confusion lifted as the vivid memories of trying to save Hasuh returned. I sat up right away and turned every which way, trying to find him despite not even opening my eyes yet. "Hasuh?"

I felt arms around me then, embracing me into someone's warm body. The person's hand was smoothing down my choppy hair and he was hushing me, trying to calm me down. "It's alright, Red. You're alright."

Shuttering and breathing shakily, I clutched onto this person's arm. "Hasuh... where...?" For some reason in my delusional and panicked state, I couldn't formulate anything beyond that. But damn, who wouldn't get the message?

"He's fine too," this person assured me. "Just rest for now, child. We can speak later."

And with that, I relaxed, dizzy and numb with relief. Maybe I could give into my weakness for a little while longer...

* * *

><p>When I woke up again, I was a lot more alert. And even dared to open my eyes.<p>

But who turns out to be the first person I see? Of course, it was Altair, for reasons unknown to me. I blinked at him in confusion, and came to acknowlodge my sick feeling.

"How are you feeling?" He asked me, shifting in the chair pulled up beside the cot.

Lifting my hands up to my face felt like a chore, so I didn't want to try sitting yet. Pushing the bangs out of my face, I smiled weakly. "Okay, I guess... Is Hasuh alright?"

To my surprise, he let a small grin cross his scarred lips. "Thanks to you, he'll live."

I didn't know how good it would feel to hear those words until I did now. But just hearing them? It was shocking at least. I could hardly believe it. That I had managed to save a life? For some reason, the concept was odd in my ears.

"How... I was drowning, but who saved us?" I felt the need to ask.

Altair hummed a little as he sat back. "Darim was there when the rock broke off the cliff, and he ran to me, relying the entire incident. I gathers a couple of doctors to help me retrieve Hasuh and maybe council you, as I had my doubts on his survival and your willingness to jump to his aid."

To this I felt my cheek twitch a little in slight irritation.

"Instead, I had to fish you from the water," he chuckled. "But nonetheless, you were the one who ultimately saved his life."

"I had to shift some sediment to free his leg," I recalled half to myself.

"That does explain the damage," Altair said a little more seriously, his smile falling.

That made my alarm bells ring. "How bad is the damage?"

He stood and stretched a little. "His leg is broken in two places, but that aside it's only bruises and scrapes. So do whatever you can to help him." With those words, he left.

I just laid there for an hour or so, not bothering to sit up yet. And soon I found the stillness too still. And the quiet just too quiet. I needed to move, and I needed to talk to someone before I start talking to myself. So I got up, which I immediantly regreted not taking my time when I stumbled forward on a dizzy spell. When I shook it off though, I let myself look out the window and stare down at the courtyard as sparring lessons were being instructed as usual.

In fact, everything seemed to go on like it usually did despite what happened, which made me realize how insignifcant I and those I knew really were in the world. Maybe not Altair, as I still thought the whole city would weep from the loss of the Grand Master. But people such as Hasuh and I. We were simply physicians and nothing more.

These dark thoughts were interrupted by a moan behind me. I turned and found myself staring at Hasuh, a few cots down, starting to return to his senses. Altair had been right about his leg, it was splinted up to the knee and a few bits of the wrappings were tied over other cuts across his leg and arms.

"Hasuh?" I near whispered before slowly dragging my feet towards the cot. There I stood, holding the edge and looking down at him. "Hasuh? Can you hear me?"

My mentor groaned and lifted his hand to rub his face, when he let the hand fall he took the chance to open his eyes. For a moment, he only stared back at me, half confused and partly groggy. But once he seemed to find his voice, he croaked, "Red? Ugh... what happened...?"

I almost cried then, because now I found that as I pieced everything together, I found I was responcible for his near death. But he wasn't dead, I had been able to change that. If anything, I felt guilty and relieved. Though despite the swell of regrets and emotion, I managed to say, "A rock cracked off of the cliff and hit you."

Though at first his eyes were alight with shock and realization, he was faster than I was to get over that. He observed me for a moment. "Are you crying...? My goodness... I'm not dead."

_Was I really?_ I tapped my fingers to my cheek and found that those tears had in fact escaped. I looked down as I felt the streaks of more salty tears rolling down to my chin.

"It's alright," he said to me calmly, more like how I knew him, "Come here..."

I looked at Hasuh to see he was holding his arms open, just waiting for me to hug him. Greatful, I was quick to accept and press into him, sniffling as he firmly patted my back. But from the moment those tears sprung, they didn't stop until there was a decent stain left on the shoulder of my mentor's robes. Even then, it was not until a while after I had stopped shaking that we let go.

"Now now, child, it's fine," he said, rubbing his thumb on my still damp, freckled cheek. "Are you going to be alright?" I nodded, and pulled on a not so much forced, but pathetic smile. "Good. How about you sit down and tell me what happened."


	26. Remedies

With Hasuh's broken leg, I had to help him around. Thankfully though, he was usually trying to rest up, and to do that he needed to chew some poppy seeds to kill the pain. That aside, I was also working double time to make up for his leave of absense.

I heavily sighed and rubbed my face with my hand. _When all this is said and done, I'm going to go comatose._

When I reached Hasuh's room, I wasn't surprised to find him sitting half awake. He was just staring down at his lap with eyes half open. This didn't alarm me because I was sure he just woke up and was trying to get the cobwebs out of his head.

As for the matter of his room, it didn't look too much different from mine. The windows were on the far wall, of course instead of, like mine, to the left. And unlike me, he was a lot more organized. Where I would just leave a bunch of random pieces of paper scattered on my desk with my journal on top, he took the time to slip his notes into the books they went along with. But then again, I also assumed he had less to write due to the fact that he told me to study the same books.

"Hi Hasuh," I greeted, still standing in the door.

He hummed his responce before looking up and casting me a small smile. "Good morning."

I laughed before walking in. "Morning to you, I thought, was before the crack of dawn."

"On the contrary," he mused, "morning is until the sun has reached it's peak. And so is it morning still?"

"If that is your logic," I answered with a grin, "then you'd still be wrong. The sun peaked not too long ago."

He chuckled a little before yawning. "So where were you this time?"

Pretending not to hear him, I glanced at him and gave a small "eh" as a responce. In truth, I preferred to leave my visits to my family out of my work. And it also didn't seem much like it was his business anyways, well besides having to know where I go... okay fine, it is his business...

"Where were you," he asked again. "I heard a couple of the staff outside complain about your absense. They say you walk off somewhere regularly."

Okay, no playing dumb now. I looked down at the toes of my boots and answered, "I have two patients that I've been tending to." Not a total lie, right? I considered my mother and sister to be under my care.

But Hasuh seemed to be hardly convinced. "Who might these two be? And how does that explain you leaving?"

I found myself fittling with the hem of my robes with my thumb and index finger. Nervous habit. "My mother and my little sister, and they didn't come here to be treated."

Now that I had filled him in on that information, he seemed a little more convinced, as he knew by now my habit of not giving a name of someone who I mention if the person was not real. "I see. What seems to be the issue with them?"

"It's that disease going about," I answered. "But I had been giving them medicine and it seemed to be helping greatly."

This surprised him. "But no one had been able to find any sort of medicine for the illness. What did you do?"

"I found some weird bump that they both seemed to have," I explained, "I thought it was just something the illness caused at first, but then I realized that if it was then there would be much more of them. So I took a knife and lightly cut it to find puss. I cleaned it then cauterized the cut so it wouldn't get infected. After that, I gave them some ground ginger to put in their tea for the cramps and nausia."

To this, he seemed a little stunned. I almost wondered if I was the first to come up with this idea. "You wouldn't mind if I saw your mother and sister myself, would you?"

I nodded and handed him his crutch before pulling him up onto his good foot. He had obviously gotten better at going about now, so I only needed to step in when we were going down the stairs. When we reached my family's house, I knocked on the door before opening it.

My brother was at his desk read when I walked in, and he didn't hesitate to look up. "Red? You're back so soon?" His eyebrow lowered, "And whose this?"

I answered casually with, "Yes, brother, I am. My mentor, Hasuh, wanted to see mother and Anna's condition himself."

To this, he scoffed, "I'd hope you pay attention."

"I have been," I claimed when in honesty I had a lot more on my mind. To get out of the long lecture before it could even start, I led Hasuh to the back room where I found my mother and Anna quietly talking. They seemed a little more at ease now. I even took note of the two cups of tea set on the endtable.

Anna grinned, "Hi Red, run into any doors lately?"

Though I _reeeeeeally_ wanted to retort to that, I figured it was best to spar Hasuh the waste of time. "My mentor wanted to see your condition himself."

Thankfully my mother, leaning back a little, was very open to this situation. "It's fine with me. But I don't think you'll find anything of trouble anymore, she already took care of it."

Hasuh nodded and hobbled over to sit on the edge of the bed while he examined my mother first. He tilted down her head to have a better look at her eyes, seeing as most of the patients' eyes were bloodshot. "She told me about an apparent bump."

My mother would have nodded but kept her head still. Instead her hand came to her shoulder, where hers had been. "Yes, and it's sealed closed now."

"May I see?" He requested, and wasn't really refused. Mother turned and allowed him to get a good look at the cauterized skin which remained of my treatment. Hasuh pulled the shoulder of the dress back up before turning to Anna. "And yours, child?"

It was amusing to walk her blue eyes grow wide. "No! Creepy old man!"

By now, I stepped up close to him to explain quietly. "Hers was on her breast." He very curtly nodded in responce to the answer before he very carefully got back up.

"Well, Red, I think that this treatment should be put to the test then," he stated. "Tell the other doctors of this and see if they'll allow you to show them how to handle the illness."

"I shall."


	27. Little Letter

"After that, you can give them ginger in their tea to help the cramps while they recover." I finished explaining.

The other doctors had their eyes on the patient as he was gingerly touching the cauterized wound. I had done the treatment on him, and all that was left was to wait. He'd recover over some time.

"This is very interesting, Red," one of them broke the silence, "but how did you come up with this?"

"I looked at what you all failed to," I said, fairly bluntly. I know Hasuh had told me on the way to be modest, but I couldn't help it, when you prove to be more observant than most of the staff, you get cocky. "When you tried to treat the symptoms, it never went away, so you stopped trying. I realized that there might be a source, so I looked on my mother, who had the disease as well. That is how I came across this bump. I wondered if it was a blister or a wort or something, so I cut it open and found the puss. You know the rest from there."

There was a series of nods before I had the patient I had just tended to lay back down.

"Thank you, Red, for telling us this," another said. "We'll use this treatment right away."

I nodded. "And I will be there to help."

"You, child," Hasuh put in, "can get some rest."

Politely smiling, I walked out the room and went into my own. There, I laid down on my bed and stared up at the ceiling for a long time before dozing off. However, a rustling in the small pidgeon cage on my desk kept me up.

_"If you can, then try sending me a letter once in a while."_

A smile came to crozz my face and I sat up and went over to my desk. There I found the first blank sheet of parchment and started to write him a letter.

_Malik,_

_How are you and things at the bureau? A lot's happened here in Masyaf._

_I wish I could write it all down, but I don't think my sloppy penmenship would allow me fit it all. Maybe I'll come back to Jerusalem someday, and I can tell you everything that's happened. It's funny, I really miss the bureau; it's nice being home and all, but with my family in good health once more, there's little I can do but continue my studies. I'm even finding it hard to believe that I was the one who found a treatment._

_~Red_

And then I let the pidgeon out, and listened to the flutter of its wings as he took to the sky with the message tied around its ankle.

Within a few minutes, I returned to the bed and let my eyes flutter closed, but sleep didn't dare come until hours later.


	28. A Year Later

The sound of my booted feet echoed in the empty hall as I made my way down to Altair's study. But nervousness prickled up inside. It had been a while now since I had been called down to see him (in other words, he hadn't really found any reasons to lecture me), so I was wondering why he chose now to have me come down to see him when I had work to be done.

Up the stairs, I found him writing in a book, and I watched the quill scratch spidering lines across the paper; I can't really read it because my eyesight still is poor and I can't read upside-down regardless. I would have broken the silence, but he looked up and placed the quill in his ink well before standing up.

Even though I should be used to it, I was still a little intimidated by the almost four inch height difference. And so I tried to pull up as unreadable a face as I could, like he was always doing. Even still, he seemed to know what I was thinking.

"Still a little self-conscious, I see," I looked down as he continued, "Red, I've heard of your improvement from your mentor, and you have no reason to seek my approval."

"I know," I said weakly. Even if I was aware that he was fairly understanding, I still couldn't help feeling worried whenever he had to speak to me. It usually meant that I did something wrong. Correction, it was a 99% chance that I did something wrong.

"And you should not feel anything but perhaps eagerness for the reasons I called you here," he stated.

I knitted my eyebrows in confusion. "I wasn't told, Grand Master."

"I see," he still had that mysterious phantom of a smile, "but Malik was."

The message was recieved in an instant. My eyes went wide as I stammered, "A- are you saying that I'm-?"

He nodded, "It's been some time since you've been to Jerusalem, but I'm sure you haven't forgotten it."

Some time was an understatement. I had been barely fifteen last time I stepped into that city, and spent a few months there. Since that, I became who I was now, a sixteen year old closing in on her seventeenth year. But he was right, I hadn't forgotten a moment of the time I had spent in the bureau with Malik. I didn't know what had changed, he hadn't replied to my letter a little more than a year ago.

"No, I haven't," I answered. "But why am I returning? I thought I was supposed to learn here in Masyaf." I could no longer say that Hasuh was my mentor, as- a few months prior- he died of a high fever. I had never been assigned a new mentor since that for some reason. But the other doctors had told me that I should consider taking on a student of my own. I never truly thought about that though.

"Yes, that was why you originally came here," Altair said with a nod, "but what reason is there for you to linger when your work here is done? I have recieved word that Assassins who I send there vanish for a while, and when they turn up again, they're usually barely alive and die by morning. It would do us good if there was a trained physician there."

"I see," I responded.

Altair still didn't seem to be finished.

"Is there something else?" I asked.

"Some of your collegues told me you could very well take on a student now," he told me, "so I asked them if they had anyone in particular who they could send with you."

"And?" I was a little more peeved now, why were they making this decision for me? It's my student, right?

"They didn't have anyone," he glanced at one of the bookshelves before he continued. "But I did."

I would have crossed my arms, but it seemed a little too disrespectful. "Who?"

"This child is very much like you were, Red, he should be very easy to get along with," Altair told me. Then his eyes fell to my side, where I felt a small tug.

I looked down to see some kid, maybe about nine or so, gripping onto my sleeve with lighter colored than normal (for an Arab at least, not that I can talk) eyes looking up at me. And for a moment, I almost missed the stitches on his wrist. I tried not to seem too angry, when really I was pretty irked still about being forced to take on some kid I didn't even know anything about, and kneeled down to his level and asked, "What's you name, boy?"

"Rahman," he said almost too quietly to hear.

"Now, Red, I think you should get ready to leave," Altair came into the conversation again.

I nodded and stood up once more. "Very well. I'll leave at nightfall." Then I stepped around Rahman and walked down the stairs. But slowly, my footsteps quickened in pace until I was running to my family's home. I stood stiffly outside the door for a few moments before I caught sense of what I was doing. Then I shook my head and sighed to myself. Someone else could tell them, right? I just couldn't find it to tell them that I was leaving them again. "I'll be back someday. But I'll send messages as often as I can."

Then I turned and walked away, where I came face to face with my older brother, who stood over me. "You didn't think you'd leave without saying goodbye, did you?"

I blinked with surprise before asking, "How did you know?"

"One, I heard you at the door a second ago, and two, we were informed." Rowe explained. I was then pulled into a hug and he added a moment later, "Don't forget to send us letters."

"I won't," I said after being released. I smiled up at him and said my goodbye before heading back at to the fortress. And then, before I ever really noticed, I was back in my quarters.

I don't know what I was thinking when I was packing, nothing maybe. Because for an hour, I just stood there, not knowing what to bother bringing. Soon though, I got started, placing my finished journal in my bag before putting the spare change of robes, and soon an old doll I had been keeping. But that was about all I bothered to pack aside from some papers and a couple jars of ink. I couldn't really think of anything else I would need.

Before I knew it, it was nightfall, and I was standing at the city gates, waiting for Rahman. Why was it that I wasn't surprised that my new student would be late now. Come on, I had the horses ready, and I wanted to get to Jerusalem quickly (even though I knew it was still going to take me five days no matter how I go about it).

When Rahman arrived, I noticed he was struggling with his bag, which led me to arch my eyebrows- I can't seem to arch just one- before asking, "I thought you were told to pack light."

He nodded. "I did pack light."

I took his bag to see, and it's weight easily trumped that of my own bag. I sighed heavily and shook my head. "I'm a little surprised you managed to carry this thing, kid."

"I'm not weak," he testified. "And I'm not a 'kid'."

"Well, _kid_," I said, "if this is what you think is light, I'd hate to hold your bag when it's heavy." He narrowed his eyes, I glared. Then I gave an impatient grunt before putting his bag on his horse's back. "Get on, we've got a lot of ground to cover."

For a long moment, he stared at the large brown horse before trying to climb up onto it. I found it fairly amusing when he fell flat on his little ass over and over. But I lost my patience- if I even have any to begin with- when he lost his and kicked the horse in the leg. "Stupid animal!"

I was quick to grab the reins of the horse so it wouldn't run off too far before I stared down at him with much irritation. "Don't blame the horse because you can't reach the sadle. Just put your foot in the stirup and pull yourself up."

He tried my advice and guess what happened. He actually mounted the horse. Although he seemed to think little of it. I pulled myself up with no problems before I got us both moving; I had taken the time while he was trying to mount his horse the last time to tie the reins of his horse to my sadle so he wouldn't stray.

And so we were off.

**Talk about a time skip. I had been planning on this for a little bit- like, back when Red started to learn how to heal- and I never really thought about giving myself a student. Although, you'll see I'm not a very good teacher soon. **


	29. Off to The Bureau

The five days travel was nothing much. Sure I wanted to go slam my head against a wall and tell Altair off for setting me up with this kid, but I didn't kill anyone. So that's saying something. Besides, there weren't any walls close by to slam my head into.

It felt nice walking into Jerusalem again. Even though it had been short two years since the last time I had stepped foot in the city, I still felt it was familiar. I glanced down at Rahman to see the lack of enthusiasm on his small face. _No matter._ _His loss_, I thought as I handed the horses to the stable boy and led the way down the street.

It was almost like deja-vu how a good chunk of mirror, broken in a large shard and left on the side of a building, revealed my appearence to me like how an abandoned knife did the same the first time. In the two seconds it took to walk past, I caught sight of my mess of shortened, still loosely curly, light brown hair. I could say I've grown a little in the past two years. What figure I didn't have seemed to start filling in now (can't say much about my chest because my breast stubbornly stayed next to nothing). I was dressed in little more than the same attire I was so accustomed to, my hood left to hang on my back.

Now that I thought about it, I never really got a good look at Rahman, not that he gave me much reason to want to, but I was noticing now how he seemed so young. It was almost like my little sister, Claire.

"Well, if it isn't the novice herself."

I could feel my ears perk (oddly enough, I can do that) and I turned around to find myself staring at Malik. I smiled widely and rushed to him, ringing my arms around his neck. "Oh my goodness, it's been so long!"

He chuckled as his hand patted my back, I let go so I wouldn't sufficate him or anything. "It has, hasn't it? You've grown some."

I glanced down and shrugged, "I couldn't tell. How's things been for you?" It almost seemed like he hadn't changed a bit from last time. Okay, give or take a _little bit_ more stubble on his jaw, but not much.

"Fine," he said. Then his eyes passed over my shoulder to Rahman, who stood awkwardly back where he was. "Didn't Altair mention something about you having a student now?"

"Yeah, when'd you hear?" I asked.

"Last week," he answered.

So... Altair told Malik before I even knew I had a student. I'd REALLY have to talk to him about that later. Well... if I don't get over it. Oh well, can't be helped now.

"Come, I wish it wasn't true, but the streets aren't the safest place to be right," he ushered me and Rahman along. Sortly after, I noticed the shealthed sword strapped to his hip, which was briefly uncovered by his cloak. It seemed even he was taking precausions.

"So what can you tell me about the situation?" I asked as we rounded the corner. "He only informed me that assassins go missing and are found too late to save."

Malik didn't look back and his voice was quieter, "Try not to speak so loud. I can explain this with less risk once we're in the bureau, but right now, I don't know who would be listening."

I nodded. "I see."

"There's plenty else to discuss," he continued. "Maybe you could tell me about your time in Masyaf. I assume you were too busy to write a letter."

This surprised me. I did write a letter or two, but he never responded. "But I had. Perhaps the pidgeon just never made it your way."

"Regardless, I'd still like to hear of your training." Malik stated. "And how's Hasuh doing? Still getting up before the crack of dawn?"

I almost didn't want to answer. "Hasuh... died of fever three months ago. Otherwise, I might have been able to pass as a student for a while longer."

There was sympathy in his voice, "Death comes to us all, and sometimes to good die far too young." He gave a short laugh, but I could tell it was forced. "And to those who want to die, they wait for decades and near a century before something like a heartattack takes them."

"That is true," I agreed, "and in other cases, it's the reckless who get hit the hardest and the causious who can sit back and laugh." It sounded dark even to me. Even a short moment later, I wished I didn't say it at all. "I'm sorry... that was ..."

"No, it's fine," Malik assured flatly, "and it is true. Though I'm a little surprised Altair managed to evade that rule."

Sometimes I forget how he pokes fun at Altair, and it catches me off guard. But this time around, I wasn't too surprised.

At some point, not too far from the bureau, he stopped and gripped the hilt of his sword. Something about the silence felt uncomfortable. It was almost like the walls were closing in on us. I glanced back at Rahman to see him put on edge by Malik's defencive stance.

And then out of seemingly nowhere, a hooded figure charged out and struck. Malik hardly had a chance to dodge to the side as the blade of a sword swept past his shoulder. While the attacker was off balance, Malik took the opening and kicked his feet out from under him and pointed the tip of his sword at his shadowed face.

"Who are you?" He asked lowly.

The hooded figure gripped his hand around his sword and looked up with startlingly familiar eyes. For a moment, I felt the blood drain from my face, and I was sure I was pale as a ghost, and I nearly stumbled with lightheadedness. _No, that's impossible. It couldn't be..._

I heard the clash of steel, and was sure there was a mix of grunts, but I wasn't seeing anything. My vision edged with black, all I could do was lean against the wall to keep from falling over.

And as soon as this attacker appeared, he retreated. I was startling to settle again while Malik sheathed his sword and lightly nudged me. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"I think I just did," I muttered, still in shock. _What was Numair doing in Jerusalem? _But then I mentally slapped myself. _No, I'm being silly... It couldn't be him._ "I'm fine... we should just get going before anyone else shows up."

Though Malik seemed the least convinced, he still lead the way to the bureau. And there I dropped in after him and helped Rahman down (as he was cowaring over the drop). And from there, it felt almost like I had returned home.


	30. Searching for You

It's funny, when I first came here, this place had felt so new, so unfamiliar. Now it seemed to hold that homely feeling, greeting me with fond memories (and of course reminding me of my follies). I didn't even bother resisting the temptation to spin around in a circle, a goofy smile on my face- afterwards I did feel kind of stupid.

"You brushed that scare off fairly easily," Malik observed.

I shrugged a little, my ears burning, "I just missed this place is all."

Rahman, like most children his age, seemed to ignore what was in front of him. "This place isn't so great."

Alright, maybe nostalgia was what made the sweaty guy smell among the odors of dusty books and ink fairly comforting. And I know there wasn't too much to keep a kid busy except work and chess. But still, if I knew Malik, he prided himself with keeping the place in decent shape. The least that little snot could do was shut his mouth and keep the opinions he had to himself.

"You know, Rahman, there's something called respect," I told him bitterly.

"Red, leave him alone," Malik cut in- much to my surprise, "this place is a little crumby."

_Fine, but let me be nostalgic without the rudeness._ "Fine."

Rahman scuffled over to the chess table and sat down while I turned back to Malik, who was looking down at a map. I almost was tempted to take off my bag and find my journal so I could draw the concentrated look.

"So what can you tell me about these disappearences?" I asked.

Malik didn't look up. "There's been five of them, and they hold many similarities. Usually they were found with their limbs broken or tore up. One though was able to tell me that 'they' were coming before he died. Shortly afterwards, the bureau was almost found, but whoever was looking lost the trail."

I had a hunch that I was stating what he probably already guessed. "Maybe someone was interrogating them so they could take Jerusalem? The Holy Land does seem to get a lot of conflict."

"I figured as much," Malik confirmed my suspitions, "but that doesn't explain much. It seems whoever these people are, they know me specifically, which is why I've been leaving the bureau less frequently."

"But you came to see us here," I pointed out.

"Because I wasn't sure if these people, whoever they are, would come after you," he explained. "And considering your mastery of a blade-" sarcasim- "I thought I should make sure you don't end up like the novices who are sent here."

I tried to ignore the nagging irritation over the fact that I never could learn any sort of fighting skills, despite my leg's improvement. I'm just clumsy.

Pushing the bitter feelings down, I asked, "Did anyone go missing recently who hasn't turned up yet?"

"Yes one," Malik answered, "Asif was supposed to be gathering information, but he's vanished off somewhere three days ago."

"And how long does it take for someone to turn back up?"

"Three or four days," he estimated, "though sometimes it can be as long as a week before their body turns up."

That worried me a bit. I knew Asif, and really cared about him (seeing as he did save my ass a couple times), so the knowledge of his vanishing made me wonder if he would end up dead like the others. Maybe I could save him this time. "We should search then."

Malik seemed to agree, "You're right, we should." And then he seemed to disagree, "But we won't."

"Why not," I almost whined, "if there's a chance that he'll show up, shouldn't we be looking? He could very well die, and I'm supposed to be here to keep that from happening, remember?"

"Because it's too risky just jumping outside the bureau to look for someone we aren't even sure we'll find," he reasoned, "And besides, nothing good ever comes from searching." Something in the back of my mind told me he was referring to my last stay here when I rushed out to find my friend.

"I'll make some good come out of it then." I know it sounded almost arrogent, but I didn't want to just let Asif's body show up sometime over the week when I could have found him today. "And you don't have to go at all, I know my way around the city."

"But you could get caught by whoever is behind the kidnappings," he pointed out, "it doesn't help when you're dressed almost like an assassin yourself."

He made a good point, but I had an idea. I rushed into the back and found a blanket, pulling off my robes so I was just in the undershirt and trousers (boots too of course) and threw the blanket over my shoulders like a cloak. When I came back, I held my arms out with a sort of see-what-I-mean gesture before declaring, "And now I'm not."

Malik rubbed his temples before sighing. "I still don't trust this..."

"You don't have to," I told him, "but I'm still going." Then I turned to the door and walked out into the courtyard, there I stared up at the dreaded entrance. Or at least once dreaded. I could easily scale it now; made simple since my limbs weren't screaming bloody murder. And in one fluid motion, I was on the edge on the top, staring back down into the courtyard. Then I turned around and was on my way.

Walking through the streets of Jerusalem was normally fairly difficult with all the crowds and traffic, but today was quiet. It seemed less people were wondering about. Which made it a lot easier for me to look. It wasn't long before I some blood on the stones caught my eye, and led me through several alleyways.

Where the blood trail came to end was in some courtyard. There I found a figure huddled up in the corner. Tightening my hold on the blanket, I approached the person and kneeled down in front of him. Despite all the blood staining his face and the welts and bruises, I reconized Asif right away. His legs mangled up and one hand crushed.

"Who could have done this," I whispered to my self, lightly moving Asif's face to the side to inspect a still bleeding cut under his ear, the other had been cut off along with his pinkie fingers. But he was still alive somehow, I could feel his warm breath on my hand and feel the throb of a pulse under my thumb. I needed to get him out of here.

Knowing I couldn't carry someone heavier than a child, I laid the blanket on the ground and carefully shifted him on. The tough fabric of the blanket wouldn't tear so easily, or at least I didn't think so, so I was able to pull on two of the corners to drag him along. It was lucky hardly anyone was outside today, maybe it was Sunday (I couldn't remember), because the usual traffic flow would be impossible to move through.

When I got the the bureau, I spend almost a half hour trying to get him on the roof and another just to get him into the entrance without hurting him. Once inside, I dragged him into the main room and took the time to catch my breath. It wasn't like he was rediculously heavy, far from it, it was just the endless tugging when the blanket would get caught on something.

Malik seemed surprised. In fact, I thought he was stunned silent. But after a short delay, he coughed and shook off his shock. "Do you need help bringing him into the back?"

I nodded. "That would be nice, thank you."

He stepped around the desk and helped pull him up, holding his arm over his shoulder by the wrist. I took Asif's other side and we trudged back into the medicine room (actually, I'm not even sure what it's called). With care, we laid him down and I got straight to work cleaning out the wounds. There were just so many...


	31. Gone, and I mean it

I couldn't remember when I dozed off, but I do recall jolting to my senses by a suttle nudge to my shoulder. Right away, I was back on my feet. As it turned out, I quickly learned, I had fallen asleep _standing_ at the table, my head had been resting on Asif's chest. And who would catch me lazing around other than ever-watchful Malik.

My hand still on Asif's chest, I wondered aloud. "How long was I...?" I stopped midsentence when I realized something... Asif was not moving. I mean, I know he wasn't moving to begin with, but now I couldn't feel anything. His chest no long rose to show he was breathing. And more unsettling... I could no longer feel his heart beating under my hand.

At first, it was the shock of this discovery that made the blood drain from my face. At this point, I was sure I looked pale as the moon. In fact, I didn't even notice that I was holding my own breath, waiting for something, anything, from Asif to show me that he was still alive.

But that never came...

Malik seemed to already know. And he seemed careful with his words. "Red, I am sorry." It was all he could say. Even if I wanted him to say something else, I was painfully aware that there was nothing else he could say. Well, not without looking like an inconsiderate ass.

After a minute -though it felt like an hour- of drop dead silence on my part, I let out a choked sob and clenched my fist. "I- it... h- he w- was counting... on me..." Now I squeezed my eyes shut- they were too blurred by tears for me to see- "I- I let him die... i-it's all my fault..."

For the next few seconds after that, I wasn't aware that my balance was too fleeing with my composure (both of which I had worked so hard to build). I practically staggered just to stand where I was. Of course, Malik took this as a sign to lead me away from the table.

"I know it's hard," Malik told me, turning me away from the table... from Asif's body, "but it's going to be alright."

Though without roughness, he firmly sat me down on my mat. There he handed me one of the pillows, which I clenched in my fists before pressing my tearing face into it's embroidered surface. I screamed. And blindly -seeing as my eyes were still shut- I reached out and grabbed onto the closest thing I could find, which turned out to be Malik's arm -or upper arm at least, and pulled it close. That turned into me keeping my face down to his shoulder as I held on tightly -almost afraid he would too die if I let him go.

Slowly, he petted my hair and tried to hush me. "Maybe you should rest for now, Red."

It wasn't like I wanted to. It had been _rest_ which killed Asif. _I_ had killed him by resting. Even still, it wasn't like I had a second opinion on this. I was too weak with shock to really bother putting up a fight.

And when it seemed I would close my eyes again, Malik took it as a sign that he should leave. But I didn't want him to go... I just... I couldn't be left by myself again. Before he could even stand, I firmly grasped the side of his cloak. "Please... stay..."

Though I didn't even give him much choice either, he didn't argue with me. He settled back down beside me and waited for me to fall asleep.

But all that awaited me was nightmares which I could not escape...

* * *

><p>I woke up suddenly. My eyes flying open and my heart pounding. It was the nightmares... those damn nightmares. I had dreamt that Asif had died. They were so realistic that they were scary.<p>

After taking a slow breath, I looked around the room. It seemed that Asif had left, as he was no longer lying on the table. This worried me, as I knew he shouldn't be wandering around and risk reopening the wounds. I'd need to find him above all.

So I stood up and left the room. In the main area, I found Malik scratching away with a quill as aways, and Rahman stacking up pillows. But no Asif at all.

"Where's Asif?" I asked. "He shouldn't be wandering around."

To this, Malik seemed to freeze, his hand haulting in the middle of a character. And he didn't even so much as twitch for a long moment. Before I assumed he had turned to stone, he let out a shallow, uneasy breath. "Red... he's gone..."

When I heard this, I found myself refusing to believe it. I shook my head. "Where could he have gone with his injuries?"

"Not that kind of gone," Malik said a little harshly, but calmed himself again, "I mean he's gone. No longer a part of this world."

What I thought to be a nightmare came back full force. Whether or not I was standing there, mouth agate and pale as a ghost, I wasn't sure. But it wasn't too long after that I begun to feel ill, and my already sub-par vision begun to sway with my disbalance. I promptly went and fainted.


	32. Unexpected Encounter

Malik put down his quill and hurried over to Red when he saw her begin to sway, and managed to catch her when she fell. He sighed heavily, cursing under his breath. He was supposed to write a report back to Altair explaining the death of Asif, and now he had a grieving physician to worry about. And he didn't even think Rahman might be any help either, seeing as the he seemed too young to understand what was happening.

Though with some difficulty, he carried her back to the medicine room (seems like that room had a lot of names now) and layed her down on her mat. She'd have to wake up soon.

* * *

><p>When I woke up, it was dark and cold. And I could hear the rumbling of thunder and the patter of rain. My skin was freezing... but I couldn't feel it. All my swarming guilt and sorrow and trama seemed to come and pelt me. Lashing out to strike another blow on my fleeing senses.<p>

I was on my feet in moments, but my balance was off and I almost fell. Blindly, I stumbled out of the room and through the main room then out into the courtyard. Rain was pattering against a wooden board placed over the entrance (specifically to keep said rain out). But I climbed up and slammed the board with my elbow, knocking it out of the way and letting rain pour down on my face.

It was dark outside. More so with the heavy storm clouds looming overhead. The only light that came was when lightning arched across the sky in a momentary flash. The storm was so close that I could feel the thunder's vibrations rattle through my bones.

Though I would have climbed off the roof, I ended up falling and rolling over and flopping on my back. My robes already stained with blood, and I was sure I got a cut on my forehead in the fall. For a minute, maybe five, I didn't want to get up. I could lay there, and get walked all over. But soon, I flipped over and crawled to the side of the street, staring down at the puddles as the rain splashed into them.

"Where are you, Asif..." I whispered, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. "Where? Please... I need you." My breathing started to come out faster. "Don't leave me here by myself!"

_It's your fault... he's gone and it's all your fault. _A voice in her head droned.

"No..." I shook my head, choking on a sob. "No. No. No. NoNoNo_NO_! I didn't mean to!"

_You let him die. You killed him._

"No! I didn't kill him!"

_You killed him._

"I didn't mean to!"

_You killed him. It's your fault. All your fault._

"All my fault..." I repeated in a defeated whimper.

...

It was sudden when my attention was drawn from my own pain. And there I found myself staring up at that terrifyingly familiar face. He had come to get me. Despite my original fear upon seeing him, I found that more than half of me didn't seem to care anymore.

"Go ahead..." I said hollowly. "End it. See if I care..." Even when I said those words, there was still that part of me that screamed _"I don't want to die!"_

The dark, looming figure approached and grabbed the front of my robes, pulling me forward. I could feel the heat of his breath on my face. "When I'm through with you, you'll really wish you were dead." He then yanked me upwards and had me stumble forward, stepping into a puddle and sending a splash of drops flying in every direction. "And I'll do just what I did to that unloyal snake in the grass."

This made me feel a bit of rage. "You _murdered_ Asif!" I swung around and glared, blood from the cut on my forehead, tears, and rain running down my cheeks. "_You_ murdered _all_ of them!"

"Murder is a serious word you're using there," he deadpanned. "I'm _avenging_ my brother."

Teeth clenched, I growled, "They had _nothing_ to do with your brother's death. It's _me_ you want. Not Asif. And not any of the others you killed."

"On the contrary," he disagreed, "I knew you wouldn't come back without a little... encouragement. So I needed to get my hands a little dirty. Asif, the bastard traitor, was simply a bonus."

It made me feel a little more sick than I already felt. "All of this... JUST SO YOU CAN GET ANOTHER CHANCE TO KILL _ME_?"

He leaned against the wall. "Trust me, you should be flattered. I won't try this hard unless it was this important to me."

And then I couldn't help myself. I wanted to kill him. For everything he's done. All the shit he's put me though. I wanted him to die. So I took a rock off the ground and charged at him with an angry cry. In the nick of time, he side stepped and grabbed the back of my robes before throwing me backwards. I fell flat on my back and stared up at him. With a heavy foot pressed to my chest, which I could only clutch feebly, he glared back at me.

"You're going to wish you hadn't done that, bitch." Then he kicked me in the side of the head and I was gone...

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It's really a motivation.  
>I know this chapter is a bit angsty. And I also got a comment regarding how seriously Red was taking Asif's death. Well yes she is. With the combination of a promise she made to herself to make it up to him for the couple of times he saved her and the fact he died while she was asleep has taken a toll on her confidence and trust she has in herself.<strong>

**Anyways, I'll try and update as frequently as I can now that I have school along with it all. It's first day on the 5th. Damn it all, where'd my summer vacation go anyways? Did I seriously just sleep my way through it all? Yeah that's a pleasant thought.**


	33. The Search Begins

A loud crash of thunder snapped Malik from his sleep, and he found himself sitting up in his bed, sweat trickling down from his brow. He took a slow breath and spent a minute to listen.

There was a reason he started sleeping with his door cracked ever so slightly, and that was so he could hear things from outside his room. Usually at night, he'd hear the soft sound of Red snoring in the other room and -as of late- Rahman's late night utterings. But tonight he only heard the latter of the two noises.

He got up, throwing on his cloak, and shuffled to the other room and peered inside. There he saw Rahman curled in his little spot composed of a few pillows from the courtyard in the corner. But Red's mat was vacant.

Now without his door to block a lot of the sounds, he could now hear a wet patter coming from the courtyard. Now he was certain he had put a board over the entrance to keep them from getting flooded, so he curiously went to investigate.

Said board had been pushed to the side and the rain was pouring into the fountain and causing it to overflow. Great... he'd have to clean that up before someone slipped. Shaking his head, he climbed out of the Bureau and kicked the board back over the entrance while he looked around.

Just by glancing down into the streets, he could see a figure shaped hole in the mud along with skid marks. There was also a trail made in the mud leading away, like someone was dragging something_... or someone_. While Malik pondered this, he heard a crash inside the Bureau and kicked the board of wood out of the way to see Rahman sitting on the ground, rubbing his lower back in discomfort.

"What are you doing?" Malik questioned lowly. It was too late at night to raise his voice without drawing attention.

"I want to help find Red," Rahman answered.

Shaking his head, Malik sighed, "No, stay here in case she comes back. I will return shortly." Then he kicked the board back over the entrance to prevent further flooding.

His cloak was already soaked through and clung to his skin as he walked. But he chose to ignore it while he followed the trail at a quick pace. Perhaps he could catch her before she got too far.

At some point the trail forked, one way into an alley and another down a road. A clever trick to throw off someone who might be following them. But why the trouble in making sure they wouldn't be followed? Unless what was being dragged was in fact reason enough. Malik took a moment to look a little more carefully at the trail. It seemed silly to believe that someone would drag a person down a public street, rather than down a secluded alleyway. And the fact that the rain hadn't washed the mud back into place seemed to indicate that the person couldn't be too far ahead.

The path into the alleyway seemed a little deeper than the one into the main street. That could have been for two reasons, it was fresher or the person backtracked on his trail to make the fork. Malik thought for a moment on which way the person might take, but this was difficult when he didn't know who he was dealing with. This person could be hoping that Malik would take the main street thinking that the alleyway was too obvious. Or maybe he could have taken the main street for the same reason. Judging from the rest of the trail, this person clung to the alleys and crossed courtyards fairly often. He could still be going by the alleys or might be trying to throw him off by taking the street...

It took a little closer look at the fork itself. It seemed the original path was curved towards the alley, and a path where the person backtracked went and crossed over to the street, making the trail a sort of y shape. Malik then walked down the street, having wasted enough time deciding what path he should take.

But that time he had wasted proved to come back and bite him, as rain had washed out the path somewhere down the line. And now, unable to continue after this person, he had to turn back and return to the Bureau.

* * *

><p>I slowly opened my eyes and stared off ahead. My skin freezing, and yet I was sweating. I was dimmly aware of someone walking towards the corner of my vision and then out of it entirely. A flickering fire in a pit put spots in my hazy sight.<p>

But why...? Just why did this have to happen? I begun to mentally kick myself for allowing this to happen. What good would I do in this position? With my wrists tied to a couple of poles and my ankles bound together, I couldn't move. I vaguely wondered if any of this was even worth it. It's not like I could escape without the bondage either. For all I know, if I tried then I might get an arrow (or throwing knife) to the back.

And if I stayed? If I stay then I'll still die. Much slower and in greater pain. Maybe Malik would have the time to find me before I died. Or perhaps he'd come here and kill the bastard who took me...  
>Or maybe he never will find me... whether because we're unreachable or he simply doesn't care, he might not come for me...<p>

It was that pestimistic realization then that sent my hopes down to the rocks. I might not be found. I might never see my family again. I might not see Malik either. And... in some small and almost nonexistant way, I'd kind of miss Rahman, even if he was a little punk.

On the other hand, what if Malik did show up before it was too late? What if anyone did? I don't know how I could possibly live with the feeling of stupidity for allowing this all to happen. Or maybe I'd be too beaten and too relieved to care how pathetic and weak I looked. But should anyone save me now, before any real torture began, then I'd feel my shame more than anything else.

"Ah good, you're up."

I craned my head every which way, only worsening the steady throb of a headache, but this person was concealed in the shadows not too far ahead of me. "Who are you...?"

A laugh. "My, you wound me. I've taken the time to remember your name, but you seem to have forgotten me."

That voice seemed so... familiar... I couldn't place it, though. "Don't play games with me. Be a real man and show me the face of my kidnapper!" In the back of my mind, I was still reeling. How did I get here anyways? Wasn't I supposed to be taking care of Asif?

"Oh I see, you're only good at remembering faces," this figure bellowed. "How about I ask you this, does the name 'Tibar' ring any bells?"

That's when it hit me. Tibar, the traitor! The traitor Sirja almost gave me away to in order to gain his trust! I clenched my fists and tried to pull forward in my restraints. "I thought you fled, coward!"

"Oh not fled," Tibar chuckled lowly. "I hid until my face was once again in the shadows. And besides, I'm not even the one who captured you."

I narrowed my eyes. "Then who else, bastard? Who would stoop as low as joining you?"

A sudden kick to my back made me cry out in surprise. Then a hand gripped my hair and pulled my head back, where I found myself staring at a frighteningly familiar face. "It's sad you forgot me so quickly, Red. After all you put me through."

My panick rose when I immediately reconized the face, but my throat seemed to constrict, I could not even force a sound. _Numair!_

**A yes, the classic concussion. We've all seen it used in movies and stories. The character's beamed right upside the head and knocked unconscious. Funny thing is that if one were to be hit so hard then it's a serious head injury that in some cases can result in amnesia. In this case, a kick in the head and now Red can't really remember anything past finding Asif and bringing him back to the bureau.  
>Anyways, thanks to everyone who cares to review. It really is a big motivation to me when I find those new comments put up, and I do read every single one. It's also a lot of help when people give me advice on how to improve my writing. So please don't forget to review!<strong>


	34. Fade

Malik looked up from his desk and realized something, Rahman wasn't in the room anymore. This normally wouldn't bother him. But the boy had made five attempts already to slip away to find Red without him. And now it seemed he had succeeded in that. He sighed and put down his quill before walking out to the courtyard and climbing to the roof. The streets were bare. And no sign of the kid.

Great, another person lost.

With an irritated grumble, Malik got to work hunting down the kid.

* * *

><p>"Tell me why you did it!"<p>

_CRACK!_

"Tell me! You bitch, tell me! Why did you kill him!"

Another snap of a whip on my back, and I screamed out. My eyes dressed in tears, and my back raw from the abuse. I knew this wasn't the worst of it. This was only the beginning of Numair's revenge. I don't know how many times I told him why I killed his brother; it was purely an accident and I was acting out of fear.

"You're sickening, you know that? You can't even tell the truth!" Numair hissed. "Admit it, you hated my brother! You hated both of us!"

"Numair, I think you should calm down now," Tibar adviced, "at this rate, she'll die of shock."

I was half certain Tibar had removed the whip from Numair's hand- they were standing behind me. My suspitions were proven true when another lash was made on my back, much worse than the others. The hand which flicked the whip didn't faulter nor tremble.

"Don't patronize me," Numair warned, "I'm the one who got her here, I can do as I please. Besides, don't you want someone else?"

"Not someone else, but information," Tibar explained. "Information which I'm certain that someone fresh from Masyaf, like her, would have. I can't afford you killing her yet. So take a break and let the girl adjust. Then we'll continue."

Then I heard a pair of footsteps go off into some hallway behind me that I couldn't see. It didn't matter. It's not like I could escape. I didn't know even the basics of picking locks, nor did I ever carry a piece of metal to do so. I was completely stuck, and I was still trying to retrace my steps to learn how I got here.

_I got to Masyaf. Some boy who looked like Numair, or probably was him, attacked us and Malik drove him away. We got to the Bureau. I went to look for Asif. I brought him back and was tending to his wounds..._

My mind drew a blank after that. What did happen after that? And Numair said that he got me here. Maybe that's true...

_"Go ahead..." I had said hollowly. "End it. See if I care..."_

The momentary flashback made me shake my head. Why would I say that? What happened that I can't recall? Obviously something if I was requesting Numair to kill me. So I sighed heavily.

_So many questions. And not one answered..._

I was about to give up hope of ever being found. It didn't seem like Malik would ever find me. And I couldn't rely on Rahman for anything. Funny, I actually felt a little guilty. I was supposed to teach him, but it seems like that would never happen.

There was a small window at the top edge of the wall. It seemed like I was in a basement. And usually light would be able to stream right in from outside, but someone walked passed, bringing a moment of shadows. Hope rose in my chest and I tried to let out as best a shout as I could, "H-help!" But it didn't come out as anything more than a raspy puff of air. I doubted it could hardly be audible.

But it was. Before I knew it, a door opened at the top of a staircase to my left. And a small figure came bounding down. I immediately reconized the face of Rahman. He was scared of his wits, I knew, from seeing me so beat up. It seemed like he was barely able to keep his sentences straight.

"R-Red!" He was already tugging on the bindings, with hopes of releasing me. It was, afterall, only rope. Soon he managed to get it undone, and I fell down on my side, now at a lose of the support. I took a moment to try to untie my ankles, but my shaking hands couldn't get a proper hold on the knot. I resorted to trying to tug the rope off; an operation that went on unsuccessfully. If I kept it up, I certainly would lose my feet in the process. Rahman then interviened, undoing the knot. "Can you walk?"

I wish I could. But I was under the assumption that if I tried to get up, my legs would give out and I would fall flat on my face. "N-no. I don't think so... Get out of here, before they come back."

"Who?" Rahman questioned. "Who took you and why?"

"There's no time to explain that, just go," I nearly said above a whisper. "I'll catch up."

"But Red-!"

"GO!" I shouted, but then regretted it. This time, I was absolutely sure that Numair and Tibar heard me. It wouldn't take a minute for them to come down and investigate. "Get out of here, NOW!"

"Well, this is surprising."

My blood ran cold when I heard that voice. Tibar. The brute of a man stepped over me and planted a foot on my back, then picked Rahman up by the neck. The boy squeaked with fear before clutching the large hand gripping his tiny throat. His eyes were wide with perpetual fear.

"No! Stop it," I pleaded, "he's only a child! Let him go!"

"A child who nearly ruined my plans," Tibar retorted sourly. Then there was a sickening crack and Rahman stopped struggling. He stared off in the distance, eyes glazed over and blank like glass. He still had the fear imprinted on his face.

I was too shocked and stunned to act immediately. But then I felt a burst of fear and dispair. That would happen to me too if I didn't get the hell out of here! I put in as much of my strength as I could in pushing up under Tibar's foot. And to my surprise, I actually did manage. It was with reflexes and power I didn't even normally possess that I forced myself up fast enough to knock Tibar off balance so I could escape. I stumbled to my feet just as a momentary spark of pain flared in my thigh. I hardly glanced at Tibar or the knife he embedded in my leg before I bolted for the stairs. The pain it seemed was washed out by my panic. I tripped on my way through the doorway, but managed to get up and run. But I didn't stop until I was sure that I was a safe distance from the house.

As I stumbled into one of the many courtyards, I felt myself beginning to slow back down. The adreniline rush leaving my system as I collapsed. The agony was coming in now, and my face contorted in pain before I took a shakey breath and shut my eyes. But I didn't pass out. Not yet at least.

There was a voice, one filled with concern before I felt myself lifted from the ground. I clutched the cloth on this man's chest and felt a sob quiver from my throat. Then I was gone.

**Yup. Delays. Just gotta love them. Oh well, sorry for the RIDICULOUS wait. But here's the next chapter for you guys.**


	35. Regrets

_Asif... Rahman... all of them... It's my fault. All my fault..._

_Stupid... Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID! If you didn't kill his brother, you wouldn't be in this mess!_

_What's the point...? I can't do anything right..._

* * *

><p>In the couple of weeks to follow, Malik saw a massive shift in Red. She was much less... attached to what happened in the bureau. She didn't speak very far beyond yes or no. And she would sit in the medicine room for a majority of her time.<p>

Of course, maybe she was improving. Yesterday, Malik tried to lift her spirits a little with some humor. And for the first time in those two weeks, she smiled. Though weak, it was a smile.

But, while her mouth gave a smile, her eyes gave away clear depression. Maybe that smile wasn't as heart-filled as she probably would have liked to let on. But could she ever really expect to fool him? Malik knew her long enough well enough by now.

Though none of his time with her ever gave him hints as to how to help her. Two deaths in such a short amount of time and the possibility of losing a leg.

It was always that same leg. The same that she had gashed two years before, and now she tore the muscles again. Of course, the knife that was lodged in her leg didn't help either. It was driven deep enough to scrap at bone. A concept with was no stranger to him.

Suicide was also no stranger either. Perhaps several times after his brother's death he considered it. But several times, fear kept him from doing such. But what of Red? Did she have that fear? Would she attempt it? He would need to keep a close eye on her for a while until she got over the shock of everything.

* * *

><p>I stared at the glass viles of medicine for a long time. Too much could kill. And that's what I was intrigued with. Maybe that was my way out...<p>

Or not. What was left after death was an idea which terrified me, so whenever I picked up the vile, I would put it back down. But what is there in my choice in the matter? My leg wound's infected. I'll die if I don't amputate it. And if I amputate it, then there's the possibility I'll pass out in shock and die of blood loss. So I could end it now, wait, or try and fail.

I took a deep breath and laid my leg out in front of me. I hadn't been able to feel it ever since I woke up, could hardly move it either. Then my hand gripped around a saw. My courage left me again and I almost put it back down. I breathed slowly, trying to work up my nerve. And then I pressed the saw to the skin on my thigh, a little above the infected wound. But fear got a hold of me once more and I withdrew. Maybe I was too weak to amputate my leg on my own. I would need help... or I find another way.

How do I tell Malik about this? I just couldn't work up the nerve to say that I had to become a cripple as well. It was just unspeakable.

Or maybe there was another way. I could try treating it with salt again. Perhaps if I persist then it'll work.

And that's what I did. I picked up the container of salt and scooped a little bit in my hand before pressing it into the wound. The pain was nearly unbearable. I almost screamed, and tears clouded my eyes as I hissed and groaned. Salt felt just terrible in a wound, but it helped the infections. I gave it time before I washed it out in water. And after that, I was too drained to dress the wound and laid back on the table breathing heavily. I shut my eyes and tried remember my teacher's advise.

But my mind, stubborn as it was, decided to drift to another memory.

_"Why are you so quiet, child?"_

_My eyes were dressed in tears. Hasuh, my mentor, had fallen victim to a high fever. And now as he looked at me, hair matted in sweat, skin practically burning, and wrapped in blankets, I saw nothing but content. How could he be content with dying so weak and feeble, I wondered then. I still answered, "Is there nothing to bring down the fever?"_

_Hasuh laid his head back against the pillow and cracked a grim smile. A rasp of a chuckle rumbled from his throat, "I know this is hard for you, Red. And I understand. You did what ou could, but there is nothing else left. Whatever should happen to me will happen, but it is not your fault."_

_A tear slid down my cheek and I could feel the salty trail it left on my skin as I sniffed and nodded. "But why? I've tried everything and nothing helped."_

_"I guess that means it's time for me to go," he said. And there he stared at me before lifting a hand up to rub off the trail of tears off my face with his thumb. "No matter what happens, keep your chin up high and never give up. Not on anyone or even yourself. Understand?'_

_I nodded, my throat shut up too tightly for me to speak._

_"And don't cry for me, alright?" He added. "I would have died eventually. Everyone does. Don't mourn a man who lived his life with no regrets."_

_I struggled to keep my voice even. "How could you have no regrets?"_

_His calm smile never left. "Well, I've done what I've always believed I was meant to do. I made a difference in so many lives. And I had myself the best student any teacher could ask for." __When I started to cry again, he gripped my forearm and said firmly, "Get some rest, alright? And don't worry about tomorrow morning."_

_Unfortunately, I didn't follow his advice. My worry for him kept me up. And sure enough, tomorrow morning, he was dead. That content smile still on his face and eyes lightly shut. It made him look like he was peacefully asleep. I don't think I had myself a peaceful night's sleep since then..._

* * *

><p>When I woke up the next morning, I checked my leg. To my surprise, the infecion was reduced by quite a bit. It seemed that the salt was helping. So I applied some more to the wound and tried not to yell in pain.<p> 


	36. A Turn of Events

Two and a half weeks after the incident. Malik counted. He knew how many days had gone by in which Red was nothing but distant. But for some reason, he awoke that night, the 17th day later, to a sound he hadn't heard for a long time from her.

The scrapping of a quill on paper.

Sure, he knew Red was sort of an artist, he had stumbled upon her journal in the past, but ever since the incident with Asif, he never heard the scratching of her writing something down, or drawing anything. Perhaps it was a sign that she was improving.

Dispite the hour (extremely late, possibly midnight), Malik got up and shuffled to the door and stood at the door frame to the medicine room. He watched Red, too focused to notice him, writing something down in that journal of hers. Her quill twitched and swivelled with each movement from her wrist. And beside her, a candle's flame flickered dimmly, though providing enough light to see.

Malik roused her attention with a low cough.

* * *

><p>I slammed my journal shut, regardless of the ink (I regretted that move later), and looked up at Malik with a startled face before I calmed down. "What?"<p>

Malik seemed exhausted, it was too late at night for this. "I see you're starting to get your head again."

To that, I almost wanted to give him the most confusing confused face I could make and say 'the hell are you talking about?'. But I instead raised my eyebrows. "Pardon?"

"For one thing, you're writing again," Malik stated. "And second, you're actually holding a conversation for once. Even if it's only questions."

I looked back on what I said so far and realized he was right. I needed to think about not asking questions. "I don't know. I've just had a lot on my mind."

He nodded. "I know you have. So much has happened, and I understand that you need time to sort it out, but if you can, explain to me what is going on here."

Explain what? How I got captured? How Rahman died? How this is all my fault? Really, this is all my fault, and I don't need anymore clues for that. "Explain what?"

"Everything, Red," Malik said sternly, "I've been patient not to press you, but I'm hoping that now you can answer some of my questions. Perhaps why you went missing is a good start."

I sighed. "It's weird... You know that big guy who got away a year ago? Tibar?"

"Yes, I know him," Malik responded.

"Well he and an assassin... former assassin are working together," I said. "Tibar wanted someone fresh from Masyaf, it didn't matter who, for information. And the other... Numair, wanted another strike at me. He was so determined to get to me that he laid down the trail of dead to get me sent back here. And it worked."

"Numair," Malik pondered that. "The boy who attacked us upon your arrival?"

"Yes, that was him," I nodded. "And he's the one who kidnapped me."

Malik nodded, taking in this information. "Then how did you escape? Usually I find a lot more damage than some welts, cuts, and a stab wound to the leg- with the knife still stuck inside."

"Well... Rahman came and found me. He didn't want to leave me, but I didn't want him to get caught. It's my fault Tibar heard me, and he came down and attacked Rahman. The boy didn't stand a chance... Tibar broke his neck in his hand."

"I supppose that explains his absense," Malik sighed. "It's a shame. I didn't mind speaking with someone with his wit."

"Hey, I'm not witty enough?" I protested.

He shook his head. "Let's face it, Red. You're as sharp as down."

I narrowed my eyes. "Oh really now?"

"Yes really," Malik said, arms crossed, "now what information was Tibar after?"

"He kept questioning about the movements of assassins, new supplies they were given, contacts, but a lot about Altair. Like if he planned on going on any missions." I said. It really confused me. What was with the Altair fixation with Tibar?

Malik pondered this, "And did you answer any of them?"

"Um, no..." I gave him a quizical look. "How do I answer those? With sorcery? I'm just a doctor, I don't know about anyones' movements until they come limping to me with a throwing knife stuck in their arm and a broken foot. And Altair doesn't really say much about where he plans on going until last minute, and not even a where. It's just 'hey I'm leaving, I'll be back in a month' then when he gets back, he tells everyone about his mission in some place off by the sea."

"That seems like him," Malik nodded. "Is there anything else?"

"No, not that I know of," I said shaking my head. "But, the only way this problem is going to go away is if it's dealt with."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're about to do something rash," he grumbled.

As I got up, I furthered my point. "Numair and Tibar both want me. So why not I let them have what they want." With that, I walked past him and out of the bureau.

"Wait! Red!" Malik tried to stop me, but I broke into a run.

**DUN-DUN-DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!**

**Yup, I'm leaving you guys off here. Red's now really lost it and has decided to "turn to the darkside" so to speak. Now she's throwing herself in danger in order to end the problem, in the only way she can think of, give in. Her reasons will be explained soon.**


	37. Deep End

Malik breathed heavy now. Where could she had gone?

He only knew when it was too late.

By the city gate, on one of the rooftops, she was standing. She took another step back and her foot came tot he edge. In front of her was Numair, and not far behind him was Tibar.

"Numair, think about what you're doing," he said harshly.

In the hand of the fallen assassin was a dagger, it's hilt clenched tightly. "Fuck off, you coward! You might not be able to kill him, but I am! And I'll finish this now!"

Malik looked every which way, there had to be a way up. Somehow he could get to her. But no, nothing quick enough, not that he would struggle with. A strong jump and one hand grasping could only get you up so high. He would have to backtrack to find a ladder or some boxes. There was no scaling the walls without biting the window frame.

It was still too later. Numair charged as Tibar sprang to stop him, missing the younger's robes. His dagger ready, and at the very last moment, Red stepped back over the edge, and Numair flew right over her as she fell.

He hit the ground with a loud crack. Malik winced when he heard it, and he laid there. Moaning in agony. His eyes staring up towards the sky as blood begun to bubble up passed his lips, leaving crimson streaks down his cheeks and chin. Surely every rib was shattered, and maybe something ruptured.

And Red? She got up with a struggle and limped heavily towards Numair, picking up the discarded dagger as she went. Malik was just barely within earshot to hear her say, "This isn't murder... I'm ending this out of mercy. Maybe you'll see Nimr again..." Then she let the dagger fall, and it's blade sunk itself deep into his neck. He gurgled and sputtered before a final mutter escaped his lips. Then he was silent.

For a moment, Red stared down at the corpse, then she kneeled down and shut his eyes before she staggered and swayed, then fell with a thump in the dirt. Malik wasted no time in rushing to see what happened, but he was quickly cut off by Tibar, who knocked him right over.

"If you think I'm going to let her get away with this, you're crazy." Tibar growled, then kicked Malik in the chin. The bureau leader's head shot back and he barely managed to figure out how to use the momentum. He flipped backwards and onto his feet, stumbling a little before reaching for the dagger in Numair's neck and jamming it into Tibar's ribs.

The man hissed in pain at this and elbowed Malik off before retreating, blood splattering the ground where he walked.

Malik sighed before collecting Red and carrying her back to the bureau.

* * *

><p><em>It's dark... Dark and cold...<em>

_Where am I? Am I lost?_

_No escape. No way out..._

_I want to scream, I want to cry. But both are useless. I can't make the sounds come out._

_"Hush child. It's alright..."_

_Am I dead...?_

_"No... But you'll be alright. Rest now. Sleep... Let it all go..."_

_All of it...? But... people need me, right?_

_"If they care, they will wait."_

_But that's not my question, don't people need me?_

_"Relax... Do you recognize yourself, after what you've just done?"_

_What did I just do?_

_"You killed Numair of course. He's gone now because of you."_

_I... I killed him? N-no... This is all a mistake, I couldn't have... I could have never..._

_"You did..."_

_No. Nonononono! I didn't do it! I'm not a killer!_

_"Isn't that why you started to train as an assassin? To kill?"_

_No... I didn't train to be an assassin... I- I...!_

_"Are you scared?"_

_I don't know myself anymore!_

**Yup, pretty weird end to this chapter in my opinion. Numair's dead and Red goes through an identity crisis. WELL this can only end well.**

**Sorry about the stupidly long wait, I was suffering writer's block. It happens to the best of us I guess.**


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